


only you

by randomfills (spnfanatic)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: A/B/O, Abused Dean Winchester, Abusive Sam Winchester, Alpha Dean Winchester, Alpha Sam Winchester, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Fingering, Angel Vessels (Supernatural), Angels, Angry Sam Winchester, Apocalypse, Belts, Binding souls, Bittersweet Ending, Bottom Dean Winchester, Bottom Dean Winchester/Top Sam Winchester, Boy King of Hell Sam Winchester, Captivity, Chains, Cock Cages, Collars, Dark, Dark Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester Whump, Deaths, Demons, Desperate Sam Winchester, Dreams, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Evil Sam Winchester, Face-Fucking, Flashbacks, Forced Heat, Forced Kissing, Forced Turning, Humiliation, Hunting is still a thing, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt No Comfort, Knotting, Leashes, Long, M/M, Manipulative Sam Winchester, Memory Alteration, Mind Manipulation, Murder, Nipple Play, Nudity, Oblivious Dean Winchester, Obsession, Omega Dean Winchester, POV Dean Winchester, POV Sam Winchester, Panties, Physical Abuse, Please be aware, Prompt Fill, Punishments, Rape/Non-con Elements, SPN Kink Meme, Sam Winchester Has Powers, Sam is Lucifer's vessel, Sam not being able to control his powers, Somewhere in Season 1, Soul Bond, Souls, Spanking, Stockholm Syndrome, Temporary Character Death, Top Sam Winchester, Torture, Unreliable Narrator, Unrequited Love, Victim Blaming, Violence, Visions, alpha to omega turning, dark obsession, dean is michael's vessel, forced hand feeding, getting kind of plotty, mostly Sam's point of view though, obsessed sam, sam somewhat derails the apocalypse, sam tries to justify raping dean but it is still rape, sam winchester is obsessed with dean winchester, some shifting POV, sorry this got really plotty, there is rape in this, this is not a happy story, unhealthy codependency
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:01:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 33
Words: 68,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23320612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spnfanatic/pseuds/randomfills
Summary: Someone (up to the writer who) is obsessed with Dean and decides to turn the Alpha in his/her Omega. So he/she slowly feeds Dean his/her Alpha cum and puts Omega's stimulants in his food. Dean doesn't notice the subtle changes until it's too late and he is knotted and claimed. It would be great if you could focus on the turning and the knotting.Bottom Deanhttps://spnkink-meme.livejournal.com/120173.html?thread=43326829#t43326829Sam's been in love with Dean since...well, forever. But there's a darkness inside him that grows stronger by the day. And it slowly starts to pervert that love until everything is twisted and wrong. Set somewhere in season 1.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Comments: 277
Kudos: 533
Collections: Supernatural Kink Meme





	1. prologue

**Author's Note:**

> read the tags please

**Part 1**.

Biology got it wrong. All wrong.

It didn’t take a genius to get one good look at Dean and realize he wasn’t meant to be an Alpha. The facade his brother put on may work on some people but Sam could see right through it. The bulky clothes, the leather jacket, the rock music, the cocksure attitude, even the Impala. Everything. It was all designed to hide Dean’s true nature from the world. 

But not from Sam. 

He could see the way Dean looked at their father. With adoration. Saw the way he waited for orders. Dean was as submissive as Omegas came. Sam imagined Dean kneeling in front of him with that same look of adoration on his face. It made his dick twitch.

It just seemed ridiculously obvious. He honestly found it laughable that all the Beta waitresses seemed to eat the shit that came out of Dean’s mouth about how they needed a ‘strong’ Alpha to spend the night with, like Dean was that Alpha who could provide. And come on, lips like those? No way was that meant to be on an Alpha - unless of course that Alpha was Sam and Dean was kissing him with those lips.

So yeah. Fuck. Dean couldn’t hide it from him.

They were brothers, more than brothers. _Soulmates_. They were made for each other. Dean practically raised Sam since he was a baby. Sam loved Dean with all his heart. He’d do anything for his brother, just like how Dean would do anything for him. 

That was why Sam was doing this. He had to save Dean. From the world. From himself. Dean was supposed to be an Omega, after all. So what Sam was doing right now was fine. He was fixing Dean. So mixing his own cum with some Omega stimulant into Dean’s food? That was _fine_. That was _okay_. Because he was doing this for his brother. For Dean.

Sam had to fix what biology messed up. He read somewhere that the process of turning a full fledged Alpha into an Omega could take a long time. Weeks, months, maybe even years. Sam was okay with waiting though. He wanted to get this right. Dean couldn’t get a whiff of what he was doing until the final change took place and it was too late to stop the process.

Some people may think what he was doing right now was wrong. Manipulative. But he couldn’t talk to his brother.

Dean wouldn’t understand, wouldn’t get it. Too caught up in John’s lies about how he made such a great Alpha and hunter. _Wow, Dean, good shot, son. You’re getting better every day. Hell, probably better shot than me. Must be the Alpha in you._ John fucking Winchester. Father. Hunter. Asshole. And liar. Had Dean eating out of the palm of his hand since he was goddamn four. And John knew it, saw the way Dean practically preened under his lies, saw the adoration on his face whenever their father was even mentioned.

If John Winchester told the boys to jump, Dean would jump, without question. Dean would follow their father to hell and back. So of course if he told Dean he was a good Alpha, Dean would take it to heart. He didn't know any better. Didn’t know their father was a damn liar. Like Sam did.

“Hey, Dean, here’s your burger,” Sam said as he stepped inside the motel with a bag from the nearest fast food place. _Double cheeseburger and fries with a healthy dose of Sam’s cum and Omega stimulant coming right up._ Dean didn’t seem to notice that Sam would often go out to grab them food now. Or at least didn’t seem to care, which was fine by Sam. It made it easier to do what he was doing without Dean suspecting anything. He put just enough cum in the food that it was hardly noticeable.

Dean grinned happily as Sam set the bag on the bed. “Did you get the pie too?”

Sam rolled his eyes and took out a small box with a slice of pie in it from the bag. He held it up, watching as his brother’s grin widened. “Oh, Sammy, you certainly know how to make a man happy.”

 _I know how to make you happy_ , Sam thought. He watched as Dean opened the box slowly, and grabbed a fork, digging in without further comment. Sam heard him moan around a mouth full of pie. He imagined Dean moaning around his cock and Sam could feel his cock getting hard in his jeans. He watched Dean eat for a moment before excusing himself to the bathroom.

Once there, he closed and locked the door. Sam looked into the mirror, gripping the sink. He was still thinking about what Dean would look like as his Omega. His precious, beautiful Omega brother. It had a nice ring to it. 

He imagined Dean kneeling naked in between Sam’s legs as he sucked him off. Sam gripping his brother’s lush, golden hair. Imagined Dean’s wide green eyes looking up at him as he moaned around Sam’s giant cock. Dean. Pretty, big brother Dean begging Sam for more. To fuck his face harder.

Sam could feel the uncomfortable tightness in his pants as his dick strained. He unzipped his jeans and pushed his pants down. He gritted his teeth, trying not to moan as he gripped his dick. He started to jerk off, as he stared into the mirror, his mind too busy fucking imaginary Dean.


	2. as it should be

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so I figured out the timeline for this story while writing the chapter. it's somewhere in season 1. most things still happened like Sam running off to college and getting with Jess. Dean bringing him back to find their father. I believe John will be in the story at some point. It diverts from canon quickly though. And since this is told from Sam's POV, please remember that while he loves his brother, what he's doing is still messed up and wrong and Dean doesn't know he's doing it. Please read the tags. I'll add more when it's warranted. Otherwise, enjoy!

Love was a funny word. It was meant for an Alpha and an Omega, or an Alpha and a Beta, or a Beta and another Beta, and in some extreme cases, Beta and Omega. But the law frowned upon Alphas mating with other Alphas. Alphas couldn’t give birth so why even mate another Alpha? 

_It’s just a phase, you’ll get over it._

_Why don’t you go find a nice, lovely Omega to mate with and forget about wanting to fuck your brother_?

Turning an Alpha into an Omega needed to be consensual or it was pretty much raping the person. That was how society viewed it. But Sam was sure whoever thought of that didn’t think of every situation. They couldn’t. And they’d never understand Sam’s reasoning. They’d never lived in his shoes, didn’t understand all the intricate details of his brother, who had layers upon layers of lies built on a life that should never have been theirs to begin with. And Sam, after Dean was turned into an Omega, was going to have to pick up the pieces and put his brother back together.

Sam loved his brother, was _in_ love with him. With the way he grew up, how could he not? With a father like John Winchester who was in a war against an unknown enemy, who might as well have disappeared off the face of the planet, of course Sam was going to stick to Dean like glue. He was Sam’s mom who fed and washed him since infancy. The brother who made sure he got to school on time. The dad who made him do his homework, helped him learn to read in between moving from one motel to another.

He was the warm, kind face Sam saw when he woke up sweaty and scared from a nightmare, the ready hand with a bowl of chicken noodle soup when Sam was sick. God, if Sam had anyone to blame for their predicament, it would be their father. He raised both Sam and Dean like soldiers, and Sam could see it was slowly killing his brother. Gnawing at him from the inside. Dean didn’t want to admit it, not yet. But John Winchester’s training and now his sudden disappearance was making Dean run himself ragged trying to figure out what to do next.

Sam wished Dean could see it.

He wished he could get through to Dean without all the sneaking around, the manipulation. He wished there was another way. But he could imagine what Dean would say to him if he told Dean he knew exactly what was good for him right now and it wasn’t finding their father. It was Sam. It was turning Dean into an Omega, so he didn’t need to worry about what was going to happen next. Didn’t need to worry about anything or anyone, certainly not John Winchester, except for Sam. Exactly how they were when they were kids. Back when life was much simpler (as simple as life could get for a pair of hunters). Before Sam had to leave for college because he couldn’t stand another damn minute with a hotheaded Alpha like John Winchester.

Sam and Dean. Alpha and Omega. Just the two of them against the world. As it should’ve been. 

It had now reached two months since he first started putting his own cum into Dean’s food, along with a small dose of Omega stimulant. Dean still hadn’t noticed. Thankfully. He continued to eat whatever Sam decided to grab. Chinese take-out, diner food, fast food, whatever was quick and nearby at the time. Sometimes, though, Sam cooked. He wasn’t all that great. He was fairly limited to grilled cheese, maybe rice and heating up microwavable food. Dean was the more creative chef. But Sam had every excuse under the sun to kick his brother out of the kitchen. Unless it was to grab beer because if Sam banned beer, he’d get suspicious and right now, when he was starting to see the effects finally? No way could Sam have that.

It started with tiny things. Like when Sam asked if he could take the Impala for a drive. Right off the bat, Dean looked at him and would just stare like Sam had just grown two heads. He had to clarify he was just grabbing food and he saw his brother instantly relax. He’d toss him the keys afterwards and Sam would head out with a nod. Then Sam would ask again and Dean would look at him with narrowed eyes before remembering they hadn’t had dinner. Sam would tell him he was grabbing them burgers and Dean would hand him the keys.

After that, it became a pattern. Couple days a week, Sam would grab food. Put the stimulant and cum in there. Dean would eat it happily. Especially since Sam remembered the pie. Then it’d become nearly daily. Then it did become daily. Now Dean didn’t even ask what Sam was using the Impala for when he asked for the keys. It was almost instinct. Sam asking for keys? _Okay, sure. Here ya go, Sammy. Just don’t total her._

He always brought back pie when he went to grab food. Tonight though, he wanted to experiment. He bought a tofu burger for Dean. He knew his brother could instantly tell the difference. But he had a suspicion his brother wasn’t going to ask. His Omega instincts were going to war with his Alpha instincts. And he already let Sam take the Impala wherever he wanted. He also wasn’t going to get pie for Dean and see how that would go.

He came back to the motel with the food. “Here’s your burger, dude,” he said, tossing the bag to Dean who was sitting at the table on Sam’s laptop.

Dean looked over and caught it easily. He grinned as he pulled out the wrapped burger. He unwrapped it and took a huge bite. Sam watched as Dean froze, having tasted the tofu. His eyes were wide as he stared at Sam.

Sam could hear his heart thundering. This was it. “Something wrong?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

He watched as Dean began to chew slowly and finally swallow. He looked down at his burger and mumbled, “No.” He took another huge bite. Finished the burger in under two minutes.

Sam grinned as he took out his own burger. Dean didn’t ask about the pie. Didn’t even ask for the keys to the Impala back. Sure the process was taking a little longer than Sam would like, but it was working. It was really working.


	3. warning signs

They went home eventually.

Thanks to a dream that Sam had, he knew the family living in their current house was in trouble. As much as he hated seeing how distressed Dean looked after mentioning what he saw in his dream, he had this gut feeling that just wouldn’t go away. Sam knew his brother couldn’t say _no_ to him. Dean was as much Sam’s as Sam was Dean’s. It took only one look and Dean just crumbled.

So Dean drove them back to Kansas.

It turned out to be a poltergeist and their _mom_. They met their father’s old psychic friend, Missouri Moseley and she helped them cleanse the house. Of course not without a few choice words about what Sam was doing to his brother in private.

“What you’re doing is wrong, you know, Sam,” Missouri told him after she asked Dean to boil a pot of water and make coffee for the three of them. Dean had just nodded and went to do the task he was given without question. For a Beta, Missouri could be quite intimidating.

Still, Sam stood his ground. Because Missouri knew nothing about this. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said. She was a psychic so he knew she was reading his mind. Knew that he was slowly trying to turn Dean into an Omega. But just because she could see his plans, didn’t mean she could possibly understand. She wasn’t Sam. And Sam didn’t owe her a damn explanation.

Missouri just shook her head, looking at Sam with pity. “I understand enough. I just wanted to let you know, your method of going about it? I don’t approve in the slightest.”

Sam was quiet for a moment. He could hear Dean in the kitchen messing with the pot. “Are you going to tell him?” Sam asked, his voice just above a whisper.

Missouri looked toward the kitchen to see Dean walking around. She sighed and turned back to Sam. The pity on her face didn’t go away. It annoyed Sam. He didn’t need her pity. “I don’t think it’s my place to say. But I do think you should come clean to your brother, Samuel,” the psychic told him. Sam was absolutely not going to do that. She probably read his mind because her pity turned to anger. “You know you’re walking a very dark and dangerous road right now. If you don’t tell your brother the truth, I’m afraid you may not be able to come back from this.”

It sounded almost like a threat. Sam was internally grateful Dean chose that moment to return with a tray of three cups of hot, steaming coffee on it. He wasn’t sure what he would have said to Missouri had he not come back but it probably wouldn’t have been pretty. After that, conversation went back to the house, though Missouri kept glancing at Sam.

After they cleansed the house, the mom and her kids came back from their day out, but Sam’s gut feeling still didn’t go away. Dean wasn’t all that convinced they needed to stay around but Sam told him to trust him on this and Dean just sighed and waited in the car. Then the woman stared out in horror from her window like in Sam’s dream and suddenly they found themselves rushing out of the car and trying to get into the house as quickly as they could.

They got the family out but Sam got caught by the poltergeist. He was almost sure he was going to die. He wasn’t ready to die just yet though. There were so many things he wanted to do before he died. Like saving his brother. Showing him that he was meant to be Sam’s. He imagined Dean on his back, naked, with his legs spread, his hole puffy and leaking, his cock hard and dripping, his eyes begging Sam to fuck him already. Sam wanted to laugh. He was about to die and all he could think about was fucking his brother. What was wrong with him?

Just as the poltergeist started to choke him, he could see another spirit appear. Fire engulfed it so that Sam couldn’t get a good look at the actual ghost. Dean burst in just as the fire spirit stood a few feet away from Sam. He could just barely make out long blond hair and blue eyes, a warm smile. It was like the pictures he saw of…

“Get away from him!” Dean blurted out.

“Wait, Dean. I think I know who that is,” Sam said.

“What?”

The fire dissipated and their mom appeared in its place. She smiled warmly as she turned to Dean, though Sam wondered if it was his imagination but her eyes had a trace of pity as she looked her eldest son up and down. “Dean,” she finally said.

“Mom?” Dean asked, turning almost child-like as he stared at her.

“You’re looking good, kiddo,” she said.

“Thanks. I wish I could say the same for you,” Dean told her, glancing down at his feet for a moment.

Mary Winchester’s smile turned sad. “It wasn’t your fault, Dean.” She turned to look at Sam. Sam swallowed. This was their mom, their dead mom. The one who burned on the ceiling when Sam was no more than six months. He didn’t know her. But for years he wanted to. Dean always told him stories about her, happy stories. And Sam tried to imagine Mary Winchester’s blond hair and blue eyes and her smiles as she made PB&J sandwiches and hummed ‘Hey, Jude’ and spoke about angels watching over them. He tried so damn hard and failed.

This was their perfect, Omega mom. The one who left Sam, who left Dean. She was staring at him with a mixture of pity and sadness and Sam couldn’t stand the look. He turned away.

“Hi, Sam,” Mary said after a moment.

“Hey,” Sam mumbled, turning back.

He couldn’t read her expression now, which was even worse. She walked up to him slowly. If he could move, he’d have backed away. Mary stopped just in front of him and reached out to touch his face. Sam leaned into the touch.

“I’m sorry, Sam,” she told him sincerely.

“For what?” he asked, caught off guard.

“For not being there for you and your brother,” she answered him. There was a pause before she added in a whisper, “For what you’re going to become.”

“What?”

What was he going to become?

Mary just took her hand back and shook her head. She looked at him sadly. “I know what you’re doing, Sam. I know what it’s going to turn you into.”

There it was again. Sam clenched his hands. It seemed like everyone they met knew what Sam was doing and they kept telling him to stop or he was going to regret it. But couldn’t they see? He couldn’t. This was the only way to save Dean and make him Sam’s. 

“I can’t stop,” Sam told her.

Mary just nodded. “I know. That’s why I’m sorry.”

“I’m saving him,” Sam said. He wasn’t sure why he told her that. Maybe he didn’t want his own mother to judge him like Missouri did. They were flesh and blood, so she had to understand.

Mary didn’t say anything else. She just turned and stared at the ceiling, seeing something only she could. “You’re going to let go of my boy and...Get. Out!”

She flared up, nearly blinding Sam. The next thing he knew, he was free from the wall and Mary Winchester’s spirit was nowhere to be seen. And that terrible feeling he had in the pit of his stomach was gone. It was over. For good this time.

They could finally put this nightmare behind them. Although what Missouri told Sam was still playing out in his head. Especially after Mary Winchester’s vague warning. Sam gripped the wheel tightly after starting the engine up. He peeled out of Lawrence, Kansas to the sound of Metallica playing in the background and Dean’s soft snoring in the passenger seat. He didn’t care where he was headed at this point. As long as he was with Dean, everything was going to be okay.


	4. don't die on me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel bad for how short these chapters are so here's another chapter. Again please read the tags. It's just going to keep getting darker and you can see how far Sam is falling.

“ _Your brother only has a month to live. I’m sorry._ ”

The hunt with the rawhead was hell on earth for Sam. One of the worst case scenarios played out in reality and Sam found himself on the brink of a mental breakdown, scrambling to get Dean to the hospital at first, then scrambling to find a way to save Dean after the doctors failed to do their fucking job and save him. There was no fucking way Dean was going to die like that, on a bed in a hospital in the middle of nowhere like some John Doe nobody cared about. Someone as precious as Dean couldn’t go out like that. Sam loved Dean too much to hand him over to the afterlife.

So fuck the doctors, fuck the rawhead, fuck _death_. Nothing was going to take Dean away from Sam. He was going to find a way to save Dean (yet again). And he did.

The answer was in Nebraska with a blind preacher and a bound reaper. Sam didn’t know about the reaper at the time, though deep down he suspected something had been off. But he didn’t care enough to question it. Leave it to his brother who saw things in black and white. Who had absolutely no faith in miracles. Because to Dean, nothing good ever happened to them. Sam wished he could make his brother see there was good out there. Maybe not in Nebraska, but there was good in the world.

Once Dean fully converted to an Omega, Sam was definitely going to have to show him.

After Dean fully recovered from his near death experience, life on the road was somewhat back to normal. Tension was high and the trail to finding their father was growing colder and colder with each passing day. Sam noticed, though, Dean was more sullen and quiet, opting to look out the window whenever it was Sam’s turn to drive. They used to argue a lot. About Sam’s time at college. Finding John Winchester. Finding the thing that killed mom and Jess. Even Dean listening to the same album over and over. But now, marking just under three months since Sam started the process, Dean had become more submissive and deferred to Sam almost by default when they went out to a diner for a quick bite.

The first time it happened Sam would never forget.They had been passing through a small town in Nevada and decided to stop at a little diner for breakfast. Sam had planned on driving all morning and afternoon before grabbing a motel. They stepped in, Sam leading as Dean trailed behind, looking around somewhat anxiously. The host led them to a table in the back away from other patrons like Sam requested and gave them both menus as they sat.

Sam was looking over the choices as Dean set his menu down. Sam looked up with a raised eyebrow, wondering if Dean already knew what he wanted to order. “You know what you want already?” he asked.

Dean shrugged, rubbing his neck, as his cheeks flushed. “Uh, well, I was just thinking I could grab a cup of coffee or something. I’m not all that hungry.” He looked up at Sam, almost questioningly. Like he was waiting for Sam’s approval.

Sam licked his lips. He’d been waiting for a moment like this and realized he hadn’t expected it to happen so soon. It was a pleasant surprise though and Sam relished every moment of Dean’s inner confusion as he looked at Sam like he was his Alpha. Like he was their father. This must be how John Winchester felt.

The best part of that morning besides getting to order for his brother was how Dean didn’t even try to flirt with the damn waitress. Didn’t even give her the time of day. Just kept his eyes on the table as he stirred a spoon into his coffee and ate the omelette Sam got him slowly - Sam told him he had to eat something because going hungry wasn’t an option. Amazingly enough Dean didn’t make a big deal over it when Sam ordered it.

Dean still snarked and joked and pushed Sam on some things, but Sam once caught Dean bearing his neck when a debate over a hunt got really heated and Sam decided to use his Alpha voice. Dean jerked back and held his neck out like an Omega, mumbling a quick, “Sorry. Jeez, Sam. When’d you get so bossy?”

What was even better was that Dean had no idea he was even doing it. After Sam accepted his apology things went back to normal again and Sam got what he wanted in the end. After Nebraska, Sam had more of an excuse to boss his brother around. He’d point back to what happened with the rawhead and Dean would just get flustered and bite the bottom of his lips and look down. It was cute really.

In moments like that, Sam couldn’t help but imagine his brother laying on his back, moaning wantonly as Sam fucked gently into him. God, the sounds Dean would make, begging Sam for more, pleading with him to show Sam how much he loved Dean. Sam knew he was getting closer to making that daydream true, but in reality it was just another night in yet another crappy motel with his brother oblivious to Sam’s inner plight as he jerked off desperately in the bathroom.

And yet, Mary Winchester’s warning from weeks ago still hummed in the back of his mind like an awful song Sam couldn’t get rid of. Their mom didn’t know anything. She was dead. Sam was going to be okay. And Dean was going to be exactly what he was meant to be. _Sam's_.

There was no way in hell he was going to stop. Especially after nearly losing Dean to a damn rawhead. Fuck anyone that got in the way.


	5. john

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> minor POV shift in the beginning

“You know there’s a darkness in that boy, John,” Missouri said as she poured coffee for them both. “I could sense it when they were both here. I’m afraid it’s been growing bigger, _stronger_ each day.” She paused and looked John Winchester in the eyes. John could see concern in Missouri Moseley’s eyes. “And whatever he’s doing to Dean...it ain’t good.”

John leaned forward, took the mug in both hands. He knew there was something off with Sam. He just hadn’t been sure what that was exactly but Missouri confirmed it for him. Still, the last part was worrying. He had no idea what she meant by that. He hesitated before asking, “What is he doing to Dean? Do you know?”

Missouri shook her head. “Not really. I’m sorry. His mind was murky. I couldn’t get a good read on him. I told him I knew what he was doing but it was a lie. The boy is powerful, John. He’s getting stronger every day. I don’t know where his powers come from but it isn’t normal. Not like a psychic. I could sense...evil from it.”

John nearly knocked his knees into the table. He lurched to his feet, almost dropping the mug in his hands. There it was. Said in plain daylight. His very nightmare playing before his eyes. Sam Winchester. His son. And evil. All in the same conversation. All said by Missouri Moseley. John wanted to deny it because this was his youngest son they were talking about. Little Sammy, who had been only six months old when everything had been ripped from him. Watched his mommy burn on the ceiling. Went back to hunting monsters with his older brother who just couldn’t leave him well alone.

The boy who grew to resent John Winchester and the life of a hunter, who ran away to college, who...apparently had this darkness inside him and he was doing something to Dean that had Missouri concerned and scared. Where the hell did he go wrong? He loved his boys dearly. Tried to raise them as best he could given the circumstances. Sure they were all Alphas and when they got together, there’d been major fights and words he regretted saying in the heat of the moment but...he wasn’t perfect. He still cherished them. They were his sons after all.

“Where are they now? Did they tell you where they were going?” John asked, his voice coming off gruffer than intended.

Missouri shook her head, looking at John sadly. “I’m afraid not. When I told Sam I knew what he was doing, he...clammed up, became more withdrawn. But I would assume they’re going to want to see you, so you might as well reach out.”

John sighed. He took a sip of the coffee and set it down on the table with a loud clang. He was afraid of this. He still wasn’t close to finding the thing that killed Mary and he still needed to find the colt before anything. He rubbed the side of his face tiredly. “Right. I’ll give them a call. Thanks, Missouri. You’ve always been my favorite psychic.”

Missouri smiled as John started to head out. She reached out to touch his shoulder. He paused and looked at her. “There is one more thing, John, and you’re not going to like it.”

John swallowed, his throat suddenly feeling dry. “What is it?”

“It has to do with Sam,” she started. Of course it did. “Whatever he’s doing, you need to stop him. He’s headed down a very dark path, John. You have to stop Sam.” Missouri actually looked scared.

John had never seen Missouri look this scared before. The expression seemed out of place for the usually calm and collected psychic. This was more than what Sam was doing to his brother, though that part wasn’t good either and John was going to have to put a stop to whatever it was. He swallowed audibly, nodded reassurance so she would let go of him. He wanted to get far away from here. Wanted to get away from a reality where Missouri was scared of Sammy, who sure was hot tempered and strong willed and liked to push buttons since he presented as an Alpha at twelve years old. 

But evil? Sam couldn’t be evil. He didn’t have a darkness in him. John refused to admit it. Because then he’d have to admit he’d failed as a father. And John would never admit that.

-

Sam had another dream. It was different from his visions. There was a man with yellow eyes. A man who seemed to be talking directly to Sam and he wasn’t sure how that was even possible. But there they were, sitting side by side on the dingy motel bed.

“Oh, Sammy. You’re looking good, kiddo,” Yellow Eyes said, acting like they were old friends.

Sam could feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He tensed, scooting away a little. Yellow Eyes noticed the movement and chuckled. “You’re not actually a figment of my imagination, are you?” Sam asked, getting straight to it. He heard of dreamwalkers but never got to experience anyone actually invade his dreams before. “Who are you really?”

Yellow Eyes just smiled, but it wasn’t genuine. It was predatory. “This is why you’re my favorite, kiddo. Nothing gets by you. You can call me Azazel.”

“And what do you want from me?” Sam pressed.

Azazel just shrugged. “What makes you think I want anything from you, Sammy?”

“Quit calling me that,” Sam said. He needed to wake himself up. “Why are you here?”

“Why, Sammy, you wound me. Here I thought we were good friends,” Azazel said, leaning into Sam’s space. “Maybe I just came to check on how you’re holding up, sport.” He slung an arm around Sam’s shoulder.

Sam froze for a moment before trying to twist to escape his hold. Azazel was far stronger than he looked though so it was a futile effort. “Get off me,” Sam snarled. “Look, I don’t know you and I don’t need you checking up on me. We’re not friends.”

“Oh there’s that fiery anger I love so much,” Azazel said cheerfully. He leaned over to whisper in Sam’s ear, “So tell me, champ, how’s that dear older brother of yours? He must be far along by now. You started the process, what? Four months ago? Five? Something like that. I bet he’s being a good little Omega for you now, isn't he?” Sam froze, eyes going wide. How the fuck did he know about that? Azazel’s breathy laughter sounded in his ear and Sam couldn’t help but shiver. “Oh, Sammy. What _don’t_ I know about you? Like I said, you’re my favorite. I’ve been checking on you since you were a baby.”

The last sentence had Sam frozen to the spot. Azazel was taking pleasure in Sam’s inner turmoil. “That’s right. I was the one that killed your dearest mommy. And you know why? It was because of you, Sammy. I had plans for you, still do. And she got in my way.” He waited a beat. “Now I think I hear brother dearest calling for you, so why don’t you wake up like a good boy and take care of your precious Omega before he starts bawling his eyes out?”

Before Sam could say anything, Azazel flashed him a toothy grin and waved. He disappeared and Sam woke up with a jolt. He nearly collided into his brother. Wide green eyes were staring down at him with worry. Dean was frowning, his hands were on Sam’s shoulder, like he’d been trying to shake Sam awake.

“Oh thank god, you’re awake now,” Dean said, pulling him up into a hug. “Dude, you fucking scared me. Sounded like you were dying.”

“I...was screaming?” Sam croaked.

“Yeah, man. Been trying to wake you up for the past five minutes. Didn’t want the neighbors to wake up and raise complaints, ya know?” It was supposed to be a joke but Sam could hear the concern dripping from Dean’s voice.

“It’s okay, Dean. I’m fine,” Sam assured his brother.

Dean’s shoulders relaxed instantly. “No need for a chick flick moment. I wasn’t that worried.” A load of bull.

“Cut the crap, Dean,” Sam said, hugging tighter. He could feel Dean melting into the hug.  
“Yeah, okay. You got me,” Dean said.

Fuck. They were really going to have to stop worrying each other so much. Sam was going to die from the stress alone.


	6. the first time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Read the tags carefully. This and the next chapter contain very manipulative Sam. John will make an appearance soon. Enjoy!

Since the dream with Azazel, Sam knew he should stop what he was doing. He could feel something in him begin to spread. It had started small, just an off feeling he had since he was a kid. Every time someone bullied him, said something about his brother, how girly he looked for an Alpha. Anger boiled just under his skin, ready to shoot off if someone even so much as looked at Dean. He was so fucking close. Dean was going to be his soon. He couldn’t stop, even if he wanted to.

It finally hit the six months mark when Sam was pretty sure Dean was ready. Since he had been doing this to his brother, Sam felt powerful. Dean never asked to drive the Impala anymore, seemed content with just sitting shotgun as Sam drove them from town to town. They haven’t even been hunting all that much. Last time they went, it was on behalf of an old friend, and that was at least two weeks ago. Dean had been a little antsy lately though. Sam caught him secretly scouring the newspapers looking for a hunt. But one look from Sam had Dean putting the papers away with a guilty look on his face.

“Dude, what are you doing?” Sam asked.

Dean fidgeted under Sam’s stare. He sighed. “Look, man. I’m sorry. I just...need something to do. We haven’t been hunting much lately. I’m just not used to, you know, not doing anything. I guess.”

It was like the floodgates opened and Dean was letting out all his frustrations. But Sam just raised an eyebrow and said, “Okay.” He veered off the road and parked the Impala on the shoulder. Dean looked at him in confusion, as Sam turned the engine off and opened the door. “Come outside with me.” _I’ll give you something to do._

He didn’t wait for Dean as he climbed out of the car and walked around to Dean’s side. Dean opened the door and got out, staring at Sam with some trepidation. “What, Sam?” he asked.

Sam stared Dean down. This was the moment of truth. “Get on your knees, Dean.”

“What?”

“You heard me. Get on your knees,” Sam repeated. Then he added, “Don’t make me have to repeat myself again.” It was a barely veiled threat.

Dean stared at him for a moment, searching Sam’s eyes to see if it was a joke. Sam was dead serious. He hesitated for another moment before slowly falling to his knees. Dean’s bright green eyes stared up into Sam. Sam could feel his heart thundering in his chest. He imagined having his brother like this since he hit puberty, since he presented as an Alpha and needed something to jerk off to. It was always his brother. His older brother with his pretty green eyes and freckles and plush lips. Dean was meant to be Sam’s Omega.

And now...fuck. He was. He was going to be Sam’s. Only Sam’s. He could feel arousal causing his dick to start to harden. “Unzip my jeans.” Dean seemed frozen in place at the command, like he could hardly believe his brother was asking this of him. Sam could see his new Omega instincts at war with his old Alpha ones. The process was almost done though, Sam just needed to do this one thing and it’d be complete. He was sure of it. “Dean,” he said, gaining Dean’s attention again, “unzip my jeans.”

“Christo,” Dean whispered. But Sam didn’t flinch and Dean didn’t move to get up. It was like he was compelled to stay in place, in front of Sam.

“I’m not a demon, Dean. I’m still me, your brother. Now come on.” Sam waited as Dean reached out slowly to fumble with the zipper. He looked almost guilty as he unzipped Sam’s pants. “That’s a good boy.” Dean’s cheeks flushed at the unexpected praise. “Okay, now take my cock out,” Sam told him, using his Alpha voice. Dean didn’t even hesitate this time. His eyes dilated as he did as he was told and pulled Sam’s erect cock out, freeing it from the tight confines of his jeans. Sam knew he won. He stepped forward so his cock was just barely touching Dean’s plump lips. He grabbed onto his brother’s hair and said, “Open your mouth. And no biting, Dean.”

Dean did. Sam pushed his large dick into his brother’s mouth. Warm wetness engulfed his dick and Sam closed his eyes, moaning in pleasure. This was ten times better than anything he ever imagined with Dean. It was fucking amazing. He started to thrust further into Dean’s mouth, causing his brother to try and lean back, nearly choking on his dick, but with Sam’s hand still gripping his hair, Dean couldn’t escape. Sam moaned again, pulling out and then slamming back in. He could hear his brother gag as he thrust his dick down his throat. Sam wasn’t worried though. Dean could still breathe through his nose. He was just going to have to get used to it.

It took a few more thrusts before Sam was on the edge of orgasm. He groaned, pulling on Dean’s hair as he released his load into his mouth, could feel his brother try to swallow it as Sam’s dick continued to pulse. He imagined Dean had an addiction to Sam’s cum by now. He’d been eating it in his food for the past six months after all. And Sam heard that Alpha cum had an addictive property to it.

It took nearly twenty minutes before Sam could finally pull out. His brother toppled back, landing on his ass in surprise. He stared up at Sam, looking lost and anxious. He licked his lips, something Sam loved watching him do. “So,” Dean began uncertainly, “what happens now?”

Sam smiled. “Now, we get back in the car and drive to the nearest motel so that I can finally pop your delectable cherry.” Dean seemed to freeze in place when Sam said that. It wasn’t something he expected Sam to tell him. Dean looked ready to protest but Sam just stared back at him, daring him to argue. He watched as the words seemed to die in his brother’s mouth. Instead Dean just gulped and nodded and Sam looked pleased again. Dean wasn’t in control anymore. And why would he be? He didn’t know what was best for him, didn’t even have a fucking clue what he wanted. He might as well get with the program and go along with Sam because while Sam wasn’t their father, he knew better than John ever would about what was best for Dean.

“Get in the car, Dean,” Sam said.

Dean pushed up to his feet slowly, shakily. He was still watching Sam anxiously, like he wasn’t sure if what he was seeing was actually his brother. It was starting to annoy Sam because he already told him he wasn’t a demon. What else could Sam be? A skinwalker? Please. “Dean,” Sam said somewhat harsher than he meant to. He watched as Dean flinched. But then Dean was moving, slowly, mechanically to the car, like he didn’t want to but didn’t have a choice.

Sam could feel something in him lashing out. It should scare him but it didn’t. It just made him feel relieved because Dean was moving and doing as he was told. Thank god he didn’t have to fight his brother. The last thing he wanted was to hurt Dean. He was doing this to save Dean, not to punish him.

“Thank you,” Sam said softly as Dean got into the car and buckled his seatbelt.

Sam climbed into the driver’s side and they drove to a close by motel. In the entire way, Dean didn’t say a word. Sam didn’t miss the way Dean seemed to shrink into himself, like he was trying to hide himself from Sam. It hurt. Sam didn’t want Dean to be scared of him. He clenched the wheel tighter. But once they got to the motel and Sam turned Dean into his Omega, he was sure Dean would see. He would understand Sam had to do this. He had no choice. Dean was hurting and falling and he was scared. But in time, he’ll come to realize and maybe even thank Sam for everything he was doing.


	7. claiming

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is a longer chapter and there is graphic rape in here. this is your only warning.

They made it to a motel in less than thirty minutes. The clerk at the desk to one look at them and handed keys to a room with a king sized bed. Sam just grinned and took the keys from the young man.

“Come on, Dean,” he said, leading them to their room.

He closed and locked the door behind them and turned to look at Dean. “Take off your boots and socks and get on the bed.”

Dean seemed rooted to the spot, staring back at Sam with wide, terrified eyes. “This isn’t you, Sammy.”

But it was. Couldn’t Dean see that? Sam took a step toward his brother, watched as Dean took a step back in response. “Take your boots off,” Sam repeated, choosing to ignore what Dean had said. He could feel the small ball of anger flaring in the pit of his stomach again. Dean needed to be careful, he was walking a very thin line. Sam didn’t want to hurt his brother but he would if Dean didn’t leave him a choice.

Dean hesitated for a second, but as Sam took another step toward him, his hands reached down and he pulled his boots off one after the other. He stood up again. “Okay, I did it. Look, Sam. You don’t have to do this,” he pleaded. “You know you can find a nice, willing Omega. Man, you’re not ugly or anything. You can’t be that desperate to get laid. You don’t need to go and fuck an Alpha. Your Alpha _brother_ at that.”

Sam snorted. Poor, oblivious Dean. Still didn’t have a clue. “We’re doing this. Now get on the bed, Dean,” Sam commanded, his voice dripping with authority. “I won’t ask again.”

He watched as Dean stumbled back, his eyes growing dark. He was battling with himself but Sam knew the moment the Omega in him won out and he was scrambling onto the bed before he could realize what he was doing. His eyes stared at him in horror. Like he couldn’t understand why he was doing this, acting like Sam was already his Alpha. Sam slipped off his shoes and walked toward the bed.

God, his brother was trembling. He was still afraid but Sam couldn’t be worried about that now. He had his brother where he wanted him, where he imagined him. For months, for years. He wasn’t sure when exactly he fell in love with his brother. Before he became an Alpha surely. Maybe he’d always known. His brother was so beautiful, his golden skin soft and unmarred.

“You know, I’ve been in love with you since we were kids, Dean,” Sam admitted softly, watching as his brother’s eyes widened. “You’ve always been someone I’ve looked up to. I even envied you for a short period.” He laughed softly as he remembered being eight years old and crying when someone shoved him down on the playground. This had been before he presented and was still small enough to be a target for bullies. He remembered feeling powerless and hating it. Hated that someone could so easily push him to the ground and pin him there like he was nothing. He remembered feeling that ball of anger pushing just under the surface, about to burst as kids laughed all around him, but then Dean burst through them, looking angry and menacing and vengeful all at once, punching and shoving kids left and right and hauling Sam up into a tight, warm hug. And god, Sam wanted to be just like Dean. Strong, powerful, kind, loving, thoughtful Dean.

“I wanted to be like you,” Sam continued, climbing onto the bed. He crawled over to his brother, grabbing Dean’s knees and spreading them apart so that he could sit between them. “I was confused as a kid. Didn’t know what I was feeling. It wasn’t until I presented as an Alpha that I realized I was in love with you, Dean. I had to make you mine.”

“Might be a problem with that plan of yours, Sam,” Dean said finally, his voice cracking as Sam put more pressure on his thighs. “I can’t be yours. Not in the way you want. We’re both Alphas, remember? And _brothers_.” He stressed the last part. Like it mattered.

“That’s not going to be an issue for much longer,” Sam said. “And biology trumps blood relations. I know you barely passed high school but that’s basic science, Dean. Even you should know that.” Hurt flashed through Dean’s eyes. Sam felt a small stab in his heart but Dean had to learn that he was better off with Sam. After he claimed Dean, Sam promised to himself he wasn’t going to hurt his brother anymore. He just had to do this first, claim Dean. Then he was going to get a collar for his brother and register him as Sam’s Omega. Hunt the yellow eyed monster haunting his dream and get his revenge. Then...then they were done with the hunting life for good. Sam was going to move them into a house and white picket fence and they were going to get a dog and they were going to live the apple pie life he knew Dean always craved. He just had to convince Dean he always wanted this, deep down. He knew his brother, saw it in his eyes.

Every time they moved, it hurt him. Dean needed stability and Sam needed his brother. It was a win-win for them both. 

He pressed up against Dean, cupping his dick through his pants. Dean’s eyes looked up at him. Hurt and worry and panic all playing out on his face. But soon Dean was going to be moaning in pleasure and he was going to be eternally grateful to Sam for doing this. He had to. He squeezed Dean’s dick and watched as his brother gasped. “It’s going to be okay, Dean,” Sam said, reaching out to unzip his jeans and pull them down. Dean didn’t even fight as Sam pulled his boxers down to his ankles as well. His brother stayed perfectly still, looking scared and disbelieving. Sam leaned forward, placing a soft kiss on Dean’s uninterested dick. He looked up at Dean and said, “You might as well accept that this is going to happen. And you’re going to enjoy it.”

“No, I’m not,” Dean said through gritted teeth. He tried to arch up but it was like something invisible was holding him to the bed. “W-what did you do to me?” He sounded panicked now, straining against whatever was holding him. Sam just watched him in silent awe. Was he doing this somehow? “Sammy? What are you doing?”

“I...don’t know,” Sam murmured. Whatever was happening - Sam wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. He started to jerk Dean off until his dick started to harden. It began to leak with a couple hard tugs and despite Dean’s protests, Sam kept going until he could feel Dean on the edge of an orgasm, could see the way his dick throbbed and then he let go. He watched as Dean gasp, trying to arch up. Dean was panting, his dick erect and red and looked painful. He stared at Sam, looking betrayed.

“You only get to cum if you’re a good boy,” Sam told him. He pulled his own pants down, freeing his already hard cock. Dean was watching him wearily, almost resigned now, as Sam positioned his cock with Dean’s hole.

“You’re going in dry?” Dean asked, his voice hoarse. “I’m not an Omega, Sam. I don’t self lubricate. You’re gonna...hurt me.”

Sam looked at him. “Actually, you are an Omega, Dean,” he told him, watching Dean’s eyebrows furrow. He pushed a finger in to feel some slick in Dean’s hole. Dean gasped at the intrusion as Sam moved his finger around experimentally. “See? You do self-lube.”

“H-how?” Sam started to pump his finger in and out of Dean, causing him to moan. “S-Sam!” Sam added another finger, sliding in his brother’s slick. Oh god, so this was what an Omega felt like. Dean was so wet. For Sam. He pulled his fingers out and lined his cock back up.

“I’ve been putting Omega stimulant in your food for the past six months now, Dean,” Sam told him. Dean’s eyes flicked over to him, looking like he was trying to process what Sam was saying. Then Sam was pushing in, and suddenly Dean’s eyes rolled back and he was moaning.

Dean’s slick made it easy for Sam to push all the way into Dean. It felt so good being in his brother. Sam groaned as he thrust in and out, picking up his pace. He could hear Dean gasping at each full thrust, his hole clenching around his dick. The friction sent a jolt of pleasure through Sam and he found himself fucking in and out of Dean even harder. God, Dean was finally his. As Dean’s Alpha, Sam was going to make sure they had a lot of sex. And Dean wasn’t going to be allowed any clothes. Sam pulled out and slammed back in, loving the way Dean tried to squirm under him. He pinned his brother’s arms down and thrust in harder.

“God, Dean, you should see yourself,” Sam murmured. “You’re such a pretty Omega, big brother.” He leaned over, watching as Dean took in a shuddery breath, before capturing his brother in a hard and bruising kiss. Dean opened his mouth at the same time to gasp, and Sam snaked his tongue in. This was everything he imagined sex to be like with Dean. If only they could stay like this forever. 

After a minute, he finally leaned back, breaking off the kiss, letting Dean suck in much needed air. He pulled his dick almost all the way out and then slammed back in. Dean gasped. Dean looked so fucking beautiful. “God, Dean,” Sam moaned, feeling his dick getting bigger, the knot slowly forming. He pulled back out, and pushed in. It was a little harder but there was so much slick leaking from Dean’s ass now, it hardly mattered. “Dude, you feel so fucking good.”

“Please, Sam,” Dean groaned.

Sam grinned, “Yeah? Please what, Dean?”

“Please, stop,” Dean begged. “Please, man. D-don’t do-” He was cut off when Sam pulled out and slammed back in. Dean struggled weakly against Sam but it was a futile attempt. Sam wasn’t going anywhere and the thing that held Dean down hadn’t moved. He moaned as Sam adjusted his angle and hit Dean’s prostate. He could see his brother panting, his body shuddering in pleasure, but he had tears in his eyes, looking betrayed by Sam.

Sam’s grip on his arm tightened. He had to look away from Dean. He was so close to popping his knot. He wasn’t going to let Dean ruin this moment. Their moment. “I’m going to knot you, Dean,” Sam told him. “And you’re going to lay there and look pretty and take it. Then I’m going to claim you with my bite. Then we’re going to get you registered as my Omega. That’s what’s going to happen, okay?” He didn’t wait for Dean to answer. He pulled out and his knot finally fully formed. He pushed in, ignoring the half gasp, half whine Dean was making. He was all the way in when he finally looked up at Dean.

Dean was staring at him with hurt and betrayal. Sam tried to ignore the tiny pinpricks stabbing into his heart. He could feel his dick pulsing, pumping Dean full of Sam’s seeds. They were going to be stuck here for a good twenty minutes. He let go of Dean’s arms, realizing for the first time Dean wasn’t struggling anymore. Sam pushed himself to ignore the way Dean’s eyes tracked his every movement warily. He leaned over, and said, “Bare your neck for me, Dean.”

Dean did as he was told without hesitation. Sam leaned down to bite his brother’s neck, staking his claim. It should’ve felt like a victory. He finally got what he wanted. Dean. But somehow, it just felt hollow.


	8. special

“Looks like you finally claimed your bitch, Sammy,” Azazel said, sitting on the edge of the bed when Sam opened his eyes.

Sam groaned at the sight of him. He’d just fallen asleep and this asshole had to rear his ugly head again. He glared at the man. “You know, when you admit to killing someone’s mom, you don’t just come back acting like we’re old fucking pals,” Sam snapped. “I’m going to fucking find you and kill you.”

Azazel just threw his head back and laughed. The sound sent a shiver down Sam’s spine. The fuck was wrong with this guy? “This is why I like you, Sammy,” Azazel said, looking back at Sam. He was grinning still. “This is why you’re always going to be my favorite.”

Sam crossed his arms. He didn’t have time for this. “Okay, cut the crap. Why are you here _now_?”

“I told you before. I just like checking in. I do this with all my special children and I haven’t seen you in weeks.”

“And what makes me so special exactly?” Sam paused. “Also, I don’t belong to you.”

“Oh, Sammy. You’ve always been mine. Since you were a baby, you were mine,” Azazel said with a sigh. Sam looked at him, eyes narrowing. “Haven’t you ever wondered why you felt so...different? Bet it started when you were just a punkass kid, right? All that hate and anger, just bubbling under your skin and you just couldn’t explain it?”

Sam didn’t say anything, shocked this guy seemed to know everything about his childhood.

Realizing he got Sam where he wanted him, Azazel continued, “I know everything about you, Sam Winchester. I know everything about Papa Winchester too and your dearest brother Winchester. I told you. You’ve been mine the moment you were born. You and all the other special children? You all have gifts that no other humans have. You can do whatever you want and no one can stop you. You all...just need a little guidance.”

“Christo,” Sam said. 

He watched as Azazel looked at him, his grin widening. He tilted his head and said, “I think I hear your poor, little Omega lamb calling for you again. He always has such terrible timing, doesn’t he, Sammy? You should really start with his training before he gets to be...unruly. If you need any help, I’d be glad to be of service. I’ll see you soon, in person, hopefully.”

“Wait!” But Sam was spiraling into darkness and jerked awake, staring into Dean’s wide eyes. It felt reminiscent of what happened weeks ago when he was visited by Azazel. But Sam hadn’t claimed Dean then. His brother, while worried, also seemed scared, and he was very carefully not touching Sam. Sam reached over to touch Dean but his brother just jerked back. He froze.

“Are you, uh, okay?” Dean asked, licking his lips. He looked over Sam anxiously.

Sam just nodded, unsure how else to respond. Logically he knew it was going to take a while for Dean to process what happened between them. Deep down, however, he’d been hoping things would go to normal after Sam claimed him. He’d get Dean collared and chipped and registered as his Omega and life would just go on. He swallowed the bile down and watched as Dean went to sit on the edge of the bed, looking away.

“I heard you screaming again,” Dean said. “Was it...the same nightmare?”

He was very carefully not mentioning the sex they had the other night. Sam remembered hearing his brother in the bathroom, the water turned on. His quiet sobs and hitched breaths. He tried to hide it from Sam but Sam was his brother and Alpha. There wasn’t anything Dean could hide from him.

“Yeah,” Sam said, sitting up. He pulled his knees up, wrapping his arms around them. He shivered, Azazel’s words still echoing in his head. He was sure whatever killed their mom, and Jess wasn’t human. He had yellow eyes and even though he didn’t flinch when Sam said ‘Christo’ he was pretty sure he wasn’t far off in guessing it was a demon. Whatever it was, it was powerful enough to waltz into Sam’s head, gloating on what it did like it didn’t matter that Sam knew. It also insinuated Sam had powers and was powerful and if it wasn’t scared of Sam, then how fucking powerful was it really?

He looked over to Dean, wishing he was sitting next to him so Sam could lean into his warmth. “Dean,” he said, watching as Dean’s head turned to look at him, “come here.” 

“Is that an order, Sammy?” Dean asked, lowering his head.

No. Dean didn’t look like he wanted to come over but would if Sam pushed. He didn’t want to order his brother to do something he didn’t want to do but Sam was beginning to feel lonely and he was desperate for his brother’s warmth, for his affection. He longed for things to go back to normal. Dean grinning at him and ruffling his hair while Sam pretended to hate it just so Dean could do it again, thinking he was getting on his little brother’s nerves. He needed Dean. “Yeah, it’s an order, Dean,” he said, watching as Dean slowly climbed up on the bed and sat next to Sam, their shoulders almost close enough to touch. “Sit closer. Please,” Sam told him. 

Wordlessly, Dean scooted closer. Close enough for Sam to be engulfed in Dean’s scent. Cinnamon and honey and a hint of conditioner he put on when he showered last night. Hesitantly, Sam reached out to wrap an arm around his brother’s waist, felt Dean stiffen at his unexpected touch. Then he relaxed, and leaned into the touch and Sam just pulled him closer, whispering, “I’m not going to hurt you, Dean. Ever. I love you too much.” They sat there for a long time, just the two of them. Neither talked about the claiming or the nightmare Sam just had. Just for a little while, Sam could pretend they were back to normal. They’ll deal with everything else later.

Normal was broken too early. Later that evening, Sam received a call from an unknown number. He should’ve just let it be. “Hello?”

“Is that you, Sam?”

“Dad?”

“Yeah, son, it's me. Thank god you picked up. Sorry this isn’t a social call but I think I’ve got a lead on the thing that killed your mom. I’ll text you the coordinates. Meet me there with Dean. I’ll see you both soon.” 

Sam was too stunned to answer. There was a click and he realized John Winchester hung up. But his phone pinged and he looked down to see a text with numbers. Dean was up and moving to put on his boots.

“Are we going?” he asked when he noticed Sam hadn’t moved.

Sam was still staring at the coordinates. “Yeah, I don’t think we have much of a choice. Dad’s picked up a lead to finding mom’s killer.” He looked over to see Dean looking back at him anxiously. He tried not to think about how John Winchester would react to Sam’s claim over his brother. If things got too heated, Sam would just take Dean and leave. Let John fight this war by himself. The only reason Sam was even thinking of going was because this Azazel guy didn’t want to leave Sam alone.


	9. shut up, dean

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a warning in the next few chapters coming up. Sam is trying to justify to himself raping his brother. It is STILL rape. Which is wrong. It gets darker from this point on. Read the tags please! I'll be continuing to update them as I put more chapters up. Thanks for the all kudos and comments and interest in this story so far!

“So, um, did you want to talk about it?” Dean asked once they were in the car.

By ‘it’ he meant the nightmare, and definitely not Sam’s claim and his new status as an Omega. Sam’s Omega more precisely. Sam didn’t want to talk about it though. He was thinking about the bastard way too damn much as it was. So why would he want to talk about what that bastard, Azazel, said to him to his Omega brother? He gritted his teeth and said, “No. Not really.” He watched Dean slump back into his seat. “Sorry.”

“Yeah, whatever. It’s cool,” Dean said, staring out the window as Sam started the engine. The Impala roared to life and they were speeding out of the parking lot and out onto the road again. It felt familiar, except Dean used to be in the driver’s seat and Sam would be sitting shotgun, watching trees and grass and houses and cars all blur by. Sam knew Dean was lying. He wasn’t used to being under Sam’s thumb like this, but he also knew over time, Dean was going to get used to it. This was their new life now. 

Whatever Sam said was law. Because Sam was the Alpha. Because Sam loved Dean. Because he wanted what was best for him. It was just going to take a little time for Dean to adjust. He couldn’t wait to find this Azazel bastard and kill him so they could put this crappy chapter in their life behind them. Sam and Dean would look back to this time in their lives, with a beer in hand and laugh.

“Where are we headed anyways?” Dean asked after a while.

“Minnesota,” Sam answered easily, remembering the coordinates. “To be more exact, Blue Earth, Minnesota.”

“Dad’s there? In Minnesota?”

“Yeah,” Sam said.

“You think whatever killed mom is there?”

Sam thought about it for a moment. “Maybe. Dad just said he had a lead.” John Winchester wouldn’t have called them if he was on a goose chase. Everything had been about hunting the thing that killed mom. He couldn’t even put Sam and Dean before his crazy crusade. Sam held a long seated resentment to him. He saw first hand how it affected Dean. How it affected himself.

“Right,” Dean said. He was quiet for a little while. “So, you said you’ve loved me, since we’ve been, uh, kids.” Sam glanced at Dean, saw the way he licked his lips. God he wanted to kiss him again. He reached one hand over and grabbed Dean’s shoulder, causing his brother to jump in surprise. Dean turned to look at him. His eyes were wide and a brilliant green and Sam could help it, he grabbed Dean’s chin and pulled his face closer and he kissed him deeply, relishing the way Dean gasped in surprise, moaning as Sam’s tongue darted to taste Dean. His brother tasted so sweet, like chocolate and honey mixed together.

He reluctantly broke the kiss off after a moment because he still had to drive. He licked his lips and said, “Yeah. I’ve been in love with you since, since I was eight I think. Maybe younger. I don’t know.”

“Yeah, okay,” Dean said, hesitantly, trying to get his breathing back under control. He stared back out the window. Sam wished he had a better read on Dean these days. “Well, if you love me so much, why did you... _you know_?” He couldn’t say the words and Sam didn’t really like the implication.

Sam huffed, running a hand through his hair. It was hard to focus on the road when his brother wanted to finally talk about...that. “No, I don’t know,” he said, gripping the wheel tighter. “Why don’t you just come out and say what you’re trying to imply, Dean?”

Dean remained silent and Sam wondered if this was Dean’s way of running away, hiding from the elephant in the car. Finally, his brother said quietly, “Why did you rape me, Sam?”

Sam sucked in a sharp breath. There it was. Out in the open. Rape. Like what Sam did wasn’t for Dean’s own good. Like Sam was selfish and took what he wanted, regardless of what his brother wanted. Except he wasn’t selfish and he didn’t take Dean like that. It was necessary. Couldn’t Dean see that?

Sam could feel his knuckles whitening around the wheel. He had to swallow down the bile trying to rise up his throat. He did not rape Dean. “I, I didn’t rape you,” Sam said quietly. Then a little louder, “I didn’t.”

Dean turned to look at him incredulously. “Are you serious?”

Sam pretended he didn’t hear him. He could hear Dean huff. “Stop the car, Sammy.” It wasn’t an order, just a quiet request, almost a plea. “Please, just stop the car.” Sam wasn’t going to listen to him though. If he pretended Dean wasn’t talking, everything was going to be okay. Dean would just go back to looking out the window and the conversation would be dropped. Except he didn’t. 

Instead Dean lunged at the wheel, nearly swerving them into an oncoming truck. Sam managed to steer them back on the right lane just in time. “What the fuck, Dean!” He glared at Dean. “Let go.”

“Is, is that an order, Sammy?” Dean asked, licking his lips. He was staring at him with a hint of anger, his hands trembling as he felt compelled to do as Sam said.

“Yeah, it is, Dean,” Sam snapped and elbowed his brother. He didn’t mean to but the anger burst out of him and Dean’s face was so close to him, and all he wanted was for Dean to go back to sitting quietly on the other side and not trying to get them both killed. He saw the flash of hurt in Dean’s eyes but it was gone the moment he blinked and Dean just went back to his seat wordlessly. Sam could finally breathe again.

An hour passed in silence and Sam found his mind wandering back to the past. He remembered the first time he realized he was in love with his brother. It scared the shit out of him. All he could think was how much of a freak he was for loving his brother more than just a brother. God he remembered being bullied at school when he was twelve, when some kid found a love note he wrote. He’d confessed everything in it, confused and unsure what else to do with all his jumbled up feelings. He didn’t write his brother’s name, thankfully. Kid thought he just had a crush on someone in class.

Still didn’t do anything to stop the relentless teasing. He remembered coming home, eyes puffy and red from crying in the bathroom. Dean had been waiting with dinner made. He took one look at Sam and pulled him in a tight hug, demanding to know what happened, and whose ass he had to kick. Sam remembered desperately hoping to present as a Beta or Omega because then maybe he'd have even a tiny chance to be with his brother. He presented as an Alpha days later.

When he was fourteen, Dean and their father took Sam on his first hunting trip. It went as well as could be expected. Sam was bullheaded and had already embraced being an Alpha by then. It was one of the first times he truly noticed how out of place Dean was with them. He wasn’t like Sam or John. Didn’t want to butt heads like a typical Alpha, didn’t want to see either of them fighting each other. Didn’t even seem to care for hunting like John did. He wore the facade well, almost perfecting it to a ‘T’ by then, but Sam saw straight away he was just trying to emulate their father who was the epitome of the perfect, stereotypical Alpha.

And as Sam got older, he found himself staring at Dean more and more. The way he walked with his bowed legs. The way his hair seemed to shine in the light after he came out of the shower in nothing but a towel. The way his eyes brightened when Sam would tell him about his day. The way he threw his head back and laughed when he found something especially funny. 

God, it became almost an obsession. Sam tried to get away from it. He tried to run away to college, tried to form a connection with Jess. But every road he took led right back to his brother. His beautiful, submissive brother who Sam thought he couldn’t, in a million years, have.

Until Dean picked him up at Stanford. Without John Winchester. And Sam began to wonder. Jess’ death, dad going missing. Everything. It was all a blessing in disguise really. He could turn his brother into an Omega. He could have Dean. 

And now he did.


	10. don't defy me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there's more justifying for sam and 'punishment' for dean. spanking is involved.

“How far out are you?” John’s voice asked once Sam picked up his cell.

Sam sighed, “A couple days away.”

“That’s too long, Sam,” John growled into the phone.

Sam glowered, gripping the phone tightly in one hand as he looked for the nearest exit. He’d been driving for a few hours now and was tired. He was sure Dean was too. “We’re coming from New Mexico,” Sam said through gritted teeth, trying to keep his anger in check. It was hard though because this was John Winchester and Sam always found himself butting heads with him.

“Why the hell were you in New Mexico?” John asked.

“A hunt,” Sam said easily. It was a lie and he saw Dean perk up, looking over at him with narrowed eyes, probably wondering why he was lying to dad. Truthfully, Sam had been looking for spell work to put on Dean’s collar but the witch he’d gotten in touch with weeks ago turned out to be a fraud so he was back to square one.

“Okay,” John said. “Can you drive a little faster then? I need you both here quickly.”

“No,” Sam huffed. “We’re actually going to be stopping at a motel and getting some sleep.” 

“What?” John’s voice rose in frustration. “Sam, this is important. I told you I found a lead on your mom’s killer. You need to get here faster.”

“I know this is important.” To you. He paused, trying to keep himself calm, glancing toward his brother again. Dean was leaning in, trying to listen to what was going on. “But we’re both tired and we’re going to check into the nearest motel and drive some more in the morning. We’ll be there in two days.”

“Put your brother on the phone,” John demanded, not giving in.

“No!” Sam paused, then said, “Good night.” Then he hung up.

“What the hell, Sam?” Dean demanded after he shut his phone and tossed it in the back. “What was that? What did dad want?”

“Nothing,” Sam snapped angrily. “Just shut up about dad.”

“Fine,” Dean huffed, crossing his arms, and going back to staring out the window. Pointedly not looking at Sam.

The little show of defiance was starting to grate on Sam’s nerves. He thought back to what Azazel told him in his dream. He wondered if he was right. Sam originally thought that once Dean was an Omega, he’d settle into his role without a fuss. Go back to how they’d been when they were kids. Just Sam and Dean. But now he wondered if Dean needed a little push in the right direction. He needed Sam to teach him what was expected of him in their relationship.

Fine.

He could do that. Dean would get with the program sooner or later. Sam would rather it be sooner. So he’d have to teach Dean, or really, reteach him. Sam could do that. He continued down the road until they came across a sign that pointed them to the nearest exit to some podunk little town in the middle of Oklahoma. They were still a few states away from where their father was but Sam didn’t care. 

He had a lesson to teach Dean and some shut eye to grab. The last thing he wanted to think about was John fucking Winchester and his Alpha posturing over the phone. Sam herded Dean into a small motel, grabbed the keys for a one room with a king size bed. He shoved Dean into the room, slamming the door shut. Dean nearly fell forward.

“Ow. What the hell, Sam?” Dean demanded, trying to keep his balance.

“Shut up, Dean. Pull your pants and boxers down and bend over the bed,” Sam ordered. He watched as his brother froze, trying to process what Sam was telling him. He remembered promising to himself he wasn’t going to hurt Dean but this wasn’t hurting him. This was punishment. It was necessary. Dean needed this to learn that while Sam loved Dean’s defiant attitude, it wasn’t okay to question his Alpha like that. It wasn’t okay to try and do whatever he wanted, nearly killing them both in the process. This wasn’t for Sam’s benefit. Sam was trying to keep Dean safe. This was for Dean.

“I, uh, what?” Dean asked.

“You heard me, Dean,” Sam growled. “Pull them down and bend over the bed. You won’t like it if I have to come over.” No, he really wouldn’t. Sam would be rough and he’d probably hurt Dean more than he intended. He needed Dean to listen to him. Luckily, his brother got the message and scrambled to do as he was told. His hands trembled as he pulled his jeans and boxers down, but he bent over without complaint. He turned his head to stare back at Sam, his eyes wide and scared, like he wasn’t sure what else Sam was capable of. Sam had to fight the urge to rush over and hug his brother and tell him, _I’m sorry, I’m sorry, actually get up, I changed my mind._

Sam walked slowly over to Dean. His ass was exposed and at Sam’s mercy. “Dean, I’m sorry,” he started, reaching out to gently run a hand over one side of Dean’s bare ass. He felt Dean shudder under him.

“If you’re so sorry, you won’t do whatever you’re about to do,” Dean said.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Sam said in a low voice. “But, Dean, what you did back in the car. You nearly killed us.” He trailed his hand down to rest on Dean’s thigh.

“But I didn’t. We’re still alive. Look, I get it. I screwed up,” Dean said, trying hard not to panic. 

“Yeah, you did,” Sam said. He brought his hand up and slapped Dean’s rear, causing his brother to jump in surprise. “Stay still, Dean.” With his other hand, Sam gripped Dean’s arm tightly and pushed him against the bed. He brought his hand down again, harder. “This is for almost killing us. I’m going to spank you ten more times,” Sam leaned forward and whispered into his ear, “and you’re going to stay still and take it like a good boy and count each one. Then you’re going to apologize. Got it, Dean?”

He could see Dean’s face reddening, his brother’s eyes watering with unshed tears. He looked almost embarrassed, trying to hide his face. God what was Sam doing? He was supposed to be helping Dean, wasn’t he? But all he seemed to be good at lately was making Dean cry. Sam swallowed, pretending not to notice. Dean would come around eventually. He had to.

His grip tightened when Dean didn’t say anything. “Got it?” Sam repeated, harsher than he intended. 

He watched as Dean nodded, took in a shaky breath. “Got it,” he whispered, and Sam leaned back, satisfied.

He brought his hand down again and Dean whispered, “One. I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For...almost killing us.”

Sam nodded. He brought his hand up. He could see Dean’s ass red and throbbing and he wondered how much this was hurting. Dean only sucked in a sharp breath when he spanked him. He knew this was necessary but it was hard to administer it. He didn’t take pleasure in hurting Dean. He wanted to stop. But if he did, he’d look weak and Dean would continue to defy him and he couldn’t. He couldn’t have Dean act so reckless. Without Dean, Sam wasn’t anybody. God. How pathetic was Sam?

He could feel his knees start to buckle. Licking his lips, Sam said, “T-thank me. Thank me for punishing you, Dean.” _Please. Tell me I’m doing the right thing. Tell me I’m not actually hurting you._

“Thank you for punishing me,” Dean said mechanically.

Sam sighed in relief. Thank you, he wanted to say back. He didn’t. Instead, he brought his hand down. And Dean counted, and apologized and thanked Sam for punishing him. It took longer than Sam expected for them to reach ten. 

That night, they were laying next to each other on the bed, Sam’s arms wrapped around his brother’s body, so close their noses almost touched. Dean was already half asleep but Sam was still wide awake. “Hey, Dean,” he whispered, shaking his brother gently on the shoulders, “I’ve got a question.” He saw Dean’s eyes squint at him, tired and dazed. “It’s quick. I promise.”

“What?” Dean asked.

“Do you, uh,” Sam had to swallow, his throat suddenly dry. He felt suddenly nervous. This question had been on his mind a lot lately. Especially after he delivered Dean’s punishment earlier.

“Spit it out, Sam,” Dean said, yawning.

“Do you hate me, Dean?” Sam blurted out. He could feel his heart thundering.

There was a long moment of silence and Sam wondered if he should’ve even asked. Dean loved him, right? He couldn’t hate him.

He watched as Dean blinked, trying to digest what Sam was asking. Finally, he said, “No.” He twisted in Sam’s arms until he was facing the other way and Sam had to lean forward to catch him whisper, “I hate what you did to me. But I don’t hate you, Sam. I don’t think I can ever hate you.” 

“Do you love me then?” _Like I love you_?

He could feel Dean tense under him. He didn’t say anything, just pulled the covers up some more. Sam almost thought he wasn’t going to get an answer to the question. Then, “You’re my brother.”

It was an evasion to the question but Sam let it slide. For now. He was just going to work harder to get Dean to admit he loved him. He’ll come around. At least Dean didn’t hate him for doing what he had to. It hurt. Hurt more than Sam could ever imagine. But it was necessary. Everything was. And Dean would learn.

He let his eyes fall shut and pretended they were sleeping in a house with a white picket fence in a nice, suburban neighborhood, living a normal, apple pie life.


	11. road trip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sexual dreams, more forced kissing and angry outbursts from sam

“Sam, please,” Dean was moaning under him. “I n-need you.” He was laying on the bed, hair matted down, face shining with sweat. His lips parted in a gasp. “Please, I, I…”

“What is it, Dean? What’s wrong?” Sam crooned, feeling the heat radiating from his brother. He was hot to the touch, practically burning. Sam licked his lips. His heart was thundering in his chest. This was it. Dean was going into Omega heat. Sam could see the slick leaking from his hole. God, seeing his brother writhe like this, Dean was gorgeous. How was he not born an Omega? At least Sam fixed that. He leaned forward, stroking a gentle hand up his brother’s quivering, bare thigh.

Dean arched up into the touch. “Please, please. It hurts. I feel so…” He trailed off, staring up at Sam with glassy eyes. Sam trailed his hand up his brother’s side, watching Dean gasp and shiver. This was how Dean should look all the time.

“You feel so what?” He leaned back, removing his hand from his brother. Watched as Dean tried to chase his hand, whining at the loss of skin contact. It must have felt awful, and Sam felt bad for a moment, but then Dean was gasping and making all those really pretty noises and Sam just felt aroused. He shivered, feeling his dick straining in his boxers. God, didn’t Dean understand what he did to Sam? Why did he have to have such a sinfully beautiful brother?

“Come on, Dean,” Sam coaxed his brother gently. “You have to say it. What do you need, man?”

“You,” Dean gasped, trying to reach out to Sam, desperately wanting to feel his brother again. “Please. I feel so empty without you. Please, Sam. Sam. I, I need you.”

Yeah. Yeah, that was what Sam wanted to hear. He couldn’t wait any longer. Dean needed him, and Sam needed Dean. Fuck. He pulled his boxers down and scrambled to kneel between Dean’s already spread thighs. “You look so good like that, Dean. So fucking beautiful,” Sam found himself murmuring, lining his erect cock with Dean’s leaking hole. He pushed in, gasping at the warm slick flooding around his dick. “Fuck, Dean. Oh god.”

“Oh, fuck, Sammy. Sam, please,” Dean moaned as Sam pushed all the way in one easy thrust. 

Sam groaned, pulling back before thrusting in again. “You feel so good. Fucking amazing.” He picked up the pace, watching his brother moan under him. God, he wished he could keep his brother like this forever. Naked, on his back and begging for his cock with his pretty lips. No more dad, no more hunting the thing that killed mom, no more hunting period. Just them, like this. Soon, he promised himself. 

He closed his eyes, thrusting in one last time, feeling his dick getting bigger inside Dean. His knot would form and tie them together as he pumped Dean full of his seed. He remembered in biology class when his teacher talked about Omegas. Omegas, regardless of being male or female, could get pregnant, just like Beta females. He imagined Dean pregnant with their child. Imagined his brother’s stomach big and bulging, imagined putting his hand to it and feeling their future child kick.

Then suddenly he felt something start to shake him and Sam opened his eyes to see a wide eyed Dean with his hands gripping Sam’s arm. Sam’s other arm was still wrapped around Dean so he couldn’t leave the bed. Sam was snuggled up to him, his strained cock, still confined in his boxers from last night pressed against Dean’s clothed ass. He could smell Dean’s anxiety.

Sam blinked, still groggy from sleep. “What? Dean?”

“Oh you’re awake. ‘Bout time. You sleep like the dead, man,” Dean tried to joke. He was squirming a little. “Mind letting me go now?”

“Oh,” Sam said. “Yeah, sure.” He released his brother and watched as Dean scrambled off the bed as quickly as he could, stumbling to the bathroom. “Where are you going, Dean?” Sam hated that he sounded anxious but it felt suddenly lonely on the bed without Dean. 

Dean just turned to look at him, one hand already on the door. “Nowhere. Just gonna take a quick shower.” He paused, searched Sam’s face. “I can still do that, right?”

Sam nodded, feeling suddenly stupid. For a moment, he couldn’t help but think Dean was going to run from Sam. But Dean wasn’t. He relaxed his shoulders. “Yeah. Sorry. Of course you can, Dean.”

Dean nodded and went into the bathroom. The door slammed shut behind him. Sam thought back to his dream. He took his dick out and started to jerk off. He wondered how much longer Dean had until he went into his first Omega heat. Probably not long. God he couldn’t wait until then.

True to his word, Dean came back after his shower. He was fully clothed and still drying his hair with one of the plain white towels the motel provided. Sam still couldn’t help but stare. It didn’t matter what Dean was doing, whether it was as mundane as showering or reading an article or just eating one of those stupid burgers of his, Dean just looked so sinfully tempting and the worse part was, Sam was pretty sure Dean didn’t even see it. He couldn’t see that he practically glowed, like a shining beacon that attracted everything and everyone to him.

“Hey, earth to Sam,” Dean said, startling Sam out of his thoughts.

“What?” Sam asked, sitting up on the bed fully.

“Do I have something on my face or what? You’ve been staring at me for the past five minutes or something,” Dean said.

“Oh,” Sam said, blinking. Then before he knew it, he blurted, “You just look gorgeous.”

“Uh,” Dean stared at him, face going beet red. He turned away, rubbing the back of his neck before mumbling, “Thanks. I guess.”

Sam got off the bed, not understanding Dean’s reaction. “I’m serious, Dean. I know you’re my brother and it’s wrong and messed up but I can’t help it, okay? I love you. I think you’re beautiful and gorgeous and the most amazing person in the whole world.” He found himself walking over to Dean as he spoke, raising his voice until he was almost shouting. He grabbed Dean’s shoulder, spinning him around so they were face to face. Dean looked shocked as Sam grabbed his chin and pulled his face close enough to smash their lips together. It was harsh and deep and would probably leave a bruise on Dean but Sam didn’t care. Yeah he was fucked up, he wasn’t supposed to love his Alpha brother but Dean wasn’t an Alpha anymore. He was an Omega now and he was Sam’s.

He broke the kiss off, panting heavily, as he searched Dean’s face. There was surprise, and shock and, and resignation, a world weary tiredness. “I love you, Dean. I told you before. You’re...you’re going to get used to this,” Sam told him as he pulled back. He turned back to put on his shoes. “Now let’s go get breakfast. I’m sure you’re starved. I know I am.”

Dean didn’t say anything back, just went to put on his shoes as well. That was okay by Sam. He wasn’t sure what he would do if Dean said the wrong thing. The morning was quiet and they ate at a local diner. Sam ordered them both omelettes because he figured Dean needed some more nutrition. Besides Sam liked omelettes every once in a while.

Finally, Dean asked, “Are we going to dad now?” It was five hours later and nearly three in the afternoon.

Sam nodded. “Yeah. But it’s still a long drive to Minnesota. We won’t get there ‘til maybe tomorrow if we’re lucky.”

“Right,” Dean said, fidgeting in his seat.

Sam frowned. “What’s wrong, Dean? You in a _hurry_ to see dad?”

“I’m in a hurry to kill the thing that took mom,” Dean said. He wasn’t looking at Sam. Instead, he was focused on the passing scenery out the window.

Sam knew he was lying. “Oh yeah? So this isn’t about dad?” he challenged, his voice rising with anger. He could feel it festering just beneath his skin, like an itch. It always came back to their father. The guy was barely there to even raise them and Dean was always so hung up over him. Sam didn’t understand, could never understand this part of his brother. This hero worship for dad had always been a flaw in Dean. The only flaw. And Sam had been willing to ignore it.

“Let it go, Sam,” Dean said, his voice close enough to a growl that Sam nearly slammed the brakes on the car. The impala swerved slightly on the road, Sam’s control loosening for a quick second before he regained control. Dean flinched at the movement. “Just drop it,” he said quietly, his shoulders tensing.

Sam couldn’t though. He wouldn’t. He huffed angrily, “No.” He knew he was acting childish but he couldn’t believe he was still competing for Dean’s affection over their father who wasn’t even here and certainly didn’t own him. “Not until you tell me the truth. That’s a fucking order, Dean.” It was wrong and screamed abuse over his power over Dean but right now, he didn’t care. He’ll make it up to Dean later.

“You want the truth? Fucking fine,” Dean snarled. “Just. Fuck. Give me a sec.” Sam glanced over to see Dean try to calm himself. He was breathing heavily through his nose. Finally, he continued, “He called me earlier. When you were still sleeping. Said it was more than just a lead on the thing. He knows what it is, Sam, and he has the weapon he needs to kill it.”

“What is it?” Sam asked, focusing back on the road.

“It’s a demon. A really powerful demon,” Dean told him.

Sam paused, frowning. “Wait. This demon. Did dad say what color it’s eyes are?”

“Uh, yellow, I think,” Dean answered. “Why?”

“Son of a bitch,” Sam murmured.

“What? What is it?”

Sam thought about telling him about Azazel. But then he’d have to tell him about what Azazel said about Sam having powers. Yeah, that’d go just swell with Dean. And not only that, Azazel didn’t exactly have any kind words about Dean either. He clenched his jaw and glowered at the road. “Nothing. Never mind,” he said.

“Sam, seriously. What?”

“Nothing, Dean,” Sam snapped.

He didn’t miss the eye-roll. Dean went back to staring out his window. “Yeah, okay. Whatever, _Alpha_.” Sam pretended not to notice the way Dean said the last part. It might as well have been replaced with ‘asshole’.

Sam just huffed, speeding up on the road.


	12. not a dog

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> attempted forced hand-feeding, and more angry sam, and some angry dean and dean feeling very humiliated (with good reason)

They made pretty good progress that day. By the time Sam figured they needed to stop for the night, they were already in Nebraska. He got another call from John demanding to know where they were now. He huffed when Sam told him. He talked about finally finding some special gun that could kill the demon. The colt, he called it. Sam didn’t think it was possible to kill a demon. No one had. Except for the man, Samuel Colt, who made the gun. It apparently had been passed around after Colt’s death, before it landed in Manning, Colorado and then finally in the possession of one John Winchester.

He ordered pizza for dinner and decided it was the perfect time to get Dean into the mindset of being the submissive Omega Sam imagined him to be. Once pizza arrived and Sam tipped the guy, he closed the door behind him and knocked on the bathroom door where Dean was changing out of his street clothes. Ever since Dean had been turned into an Omega a few days ago, he’d become more modest, quietly refusing to change in front of Sam. Sam was going to give him a couple more days to adjust but now he wondered if he should just lay some ground rules out for them. It’d make it easier for Dean to adjust to his new role in their relationship. It wasn’t like Sam hadn’t seen Dean bare and vulnerable before. And Dean loved to boast about his body. Which was fine. He had a right to. Dean had a really nice body after all. Sam loved every inch of his brother. So he really didn’t understand why Dean was getting suddenly shy right now.

With what he had in mind tonight, yeah, Sam figured it was going to stop. He had to put his foot down somewhere. Better to do it now before meeting with their father, when John Winchester could try and reinforce his crappy lies about how Dean didn’t have to put up with all this weak Omega nonsense when that was exactly what Dean was now, minus the weak part. Because Dean wasn’t weak. He was strong, stronger than anyone Sam knew. 

“Pizza’s here, Dean,” Sam called from outside of the bathroom. He heard his brother shuffling around on the other side, probably trying to put on some comfortable pants he had. Once this was all over and they got a house, Sam was going to have Dean wearing nothing but a collar.

“Yeah, okay,” Dean’s voice was muffled by the door. “Be there in a minute.”

“Okay,” Sam said and went to sit on the bed. He set the large box of pizza on the bed beside him, bouncing his leg as he tried to rehearse what he was going to say. He licked his lips nervously and ran a trembling hand through his hair. This was all new to him. Even when he was with Jess he never made it this far. With Jess, he’d treated her like a Beta girlfriend. Someone to cuddle and watch movies with, as his mind kept flitting off to his brother. Who he really wanted. Who he wanted his whole life.

God. The only person who made Sam feel like this, who made everything so complicated just by existing was him. Dean. Sam wanted not just Dean’s body, but his mind, his soul. He wanted to share his life, his experiences, everything with Dean. He knew logically it had only been five minutes tops before Dean came out, fully clothed, wearing a black tee shirt and more comfortable pants, but it felt like an eternity went by. He rose up to his feet the moment Dean stepped into view.

He could feel his mouth open, his eyes wide as he took Dean in. He wanted to pull Dean into a hug, a kiss, take his clothes off and bury himself in Dean. He had to fight hard to calm his Alpha instincts to just ‘take’. Dean stared at him for a moment before his eyes shifted to the pizza. They haven’t eaten since breakfast so he figured Dean was probably hungry by now. He beckoned for Dean to come over and pointed to the floor next to the bed, at his feet. 

Dean looked to where he was pointing and glanced back at him, confusion on his face. Sam clarified, “I want you to sit there tonight, Dean. I’m going to hand feed you.”

Sam’s words didn’t seem to register for a second and then Dean stared at him. “Wait. You want to what?”

“I want to hand feed you the pizza,” Sam repeated, sitting back down on the edge of the bed. He stared at Dean, daring him to ignore his orders.

“You’re kidding, right?”

“I’m not,” Sam said. It had been something of a fantasy. He never thought about it when he was with Jess. It was only with his brother. “Now, come on. Before the pizza gets cold.”

Dean’s jaw twitched. He swallowed and walked slowly over. “Do you, uh, want me to kneel?”

“Yeah,” Sam said, licking his lips. Imagined Dean naked and kneeling and looking up at Sam with big, green eyes. His lips parted open as Sam tore a chunk of pizza and gently fed his brother. There was something so beautiful and intimate about the activity. It just felt...right. 

Dean hesitated for a moment, standing over Sam like an unwanted shadow. He frowned, looking from Sam to the pizza, his stomach growling faintly. He slowly dropped to his knees and looked up at Sam. His face flushed in shame and embarrassment, freckles standing out in stark contrast, giving him a boyish, innocent look. He licked his lips, as Sam opened the box, secretly relishing having Dean on the floor, looking up at him. There was something thrilling about being able to control his brother like this. Something he never truly thought about. Something he tried not to let himself think about. Because it had never been about the control. At least he didn’t think it had been. It was about showing Dean what he was meant to be. Freeing him from the confines of what John Winchester had put him in his whole life.

He could let go, be who he was supposed to be. He didn’t have to take care of Sam anymore. Not in the way he was taught at least. With hunting and leaving with dad and protecting Sammy, and saving people. No it had never been his job to serve Sam like that. And now Sam could show him. 

_Let me take care of you, big brother. By god, don’t you think you deserve it? Don’t you think you deserve to get out of the life and have a house and family? So what if it’s with me? We’re family, aren’t we? And god, I can’t help it. I love you. I fucking loved you since forever and I always will. What’s so wrong with that?_

He wanted to say all of that. He wanted to scream it in his brother’s face until his voice grew hoarse. But he didn’t, he couldn’t. He didn’t want to freak Dean out even more than he already had. He needed to ease Dean into it. Like a stray dog. Or wild horse. Dean was like a stallion. Beautiful, unearthly but wild and prone to running. He had to tame Dean, show him this was better than being an Alpha. Show him John Winchester was wrong. Absolutely wrong.

He broke off the first piece of the pepperoni pizza. Reached down and gently nudged it against Dean’s lips. Dean opened his mouth, hesitantly. Sam imagined Dean’s tongue darting out to lick it, licking up his fingers in the process. He moaned a little and saw Dean look at him questioningly when he didn’t let go. Heart thundering, Sam said, “Lick it.”

Dean’s face flushed even more at Sam’s words. “L-lick it?” He looked hurt and slightly humiliated and angry. 

“Yeah, Dean,” Sam said, trying to ignore the hint of betrayal in his eyes. He wasn’t trying to humiliate Dean. He just thought Dean would look hot like that. He could feel arousal hit his dick, causing it to twitch with interest. “Please. Just. For me. Come on, man.”

“I’m not a dog,” Dean deadpanned, his ears tinged red as well now. He was starting to rise to his feet. “You know what? I don’t think I’m all that hungry, after all.” It was a lie, Sam knew that. He could see the way Dean was looking at the pizza longingly. But he was a stubborn bastard, Omega or not.

Desperation and anger coiled inside Sam like a snake and Sam found himself also getting up to his feet. He didn’t mean anything by it. He wanted to share an intimate moment with Dean. He wanted to show Dean he cared for him too. He loved his brother. “Come on, Dean. We both know that’s a lie. Just, just sit back down. You don’t have to lick it. I’ll just hand feed you,” he tried, desperation winning out.

“No. Dude, don’t you get it?” Dean whirled to face him, his face still red. His eyes were narrowed in anger now and he shoved Sam back on the bed in a quick flash of movement. “You’re treating me like a dog or a pet or something, man. It’s fucking humiliating! It’s bad enough you purposefully turned me into an Omega and then raped me, but come on, I’m your brother, Sam! I don’t know what’s going on with you, but we can fix this. I can help you. Together. But you can’t treat me like this!” His voice rose with his anger and Sam saw his brother panting heavily by the time he was done.

Did Dean really think all that? About Sam? He was saving Dean and this was what he got for it? God. Sam got back up to his feet angrily. He had done all this for Dean and all he got was an accusation of ‘raping’ him. Sam would never do something like that. What the fuck was wrong with him? How could his own brother accuse him of something like that? He could feel that anger coiling in his stomach, ready to spring out.

“I didn’t fucking rape you, Dean!” he shouted. He imagined tendrils of darkness shooting out of him and hit Dean.

Suddenly Dean was flying backwards, hitting the wall on the other side of the room with a pained shout. Sam jolted back in shock. His brother’s body crumpled to the floor. 

“Dean?” 

Oh fuck. What just happened?


	13. don't run

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam lies to Dean and then gets visited by an old 'friend'.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trying to write as much of this story as I can. After this story is over, I think I'm going to write a slightly happier story. Anyways thanks for all the comments and kudos and interest guys! Really appreciate them! I'm trying to write some more of the prompt into this story but it kind of got carried away from me and turned into something way more. But I'm enjoying writing this anyways. Again just a friendly reminder to read the tags.

“Oh crap. Dean!” Sam rushed over to check his brother. What happened? Did he do that? He didn’t mean to. He just got mad and it came out and god, he hurt Dean. Anger drained away quickly as he reached out to place a hand on Dean’s shoulder. Dean was slumped on the floor, head hanging so Sam couldn’t see his face very well. He grabbed his brother’s chin and lifted his head. Sam sighed in relief when he didn’t see any blood. Dean wasn’t as hurt Sam thought. Thank god for small mercies. 

“Hey, Dean, can you hear me? God, I’m so sorry,” Sam said.

Dean groaned, opening his eyes. “Fuck. What happened, Sam?”

“I, I don’t know. I think I, uh,” Sam couldn’t form the words. He didn’t quite understand what happened himself. Except that as soon as he thought it, it happened. “You, uh, you were thrown into a wall, man. Here, can you stand?” He waited for Dean to gather himself. Then his brother nodded and he slowly helped him to his feet. Sam ran a trembling hand through his hair, let out a shaky breath. What the fuck was going on with him? Was this what Azazel meant when he said Sam had powers?

“Dude, what happened?” Dean repeated as Sam helped him sit on the bed. “One moment we were arguing and the next, I remember flying into the air and hitting the wall. Sam, you…” Dean trailed off, staring at Sam uneasily. He licked his lips, swallowed, then said, “You didn’t, uh...that didn’t come from you, right?”

Sam swallowed. He could lie, he could say no, tell him why would he even think that? They’d go back to normal, whatever that may be. Never talk about it again. That was the best case scenario for Sam, wasn’t it? He clenched his hands tightly. He could still feel it, whatever it was that sent Dean flying. That raging anger he felt when Dean confronted him went dormant but it was there. Ready to be called upon if or when Sam needed it again. He shook his head, feeling lower than dirt, lying to his brother like this. He loved Dean, so why the fuck was Sam lying to him at every turn?

“You know I would never hurt you, Dean,” Sam said quietly. “I don’t know what happened, man. It all just happened so fast, you know?”

Dean was looking at him, searching his face for something. Sam tensed. His brother pursed his lips. “Right,” he said. “Then what do you think happened?”

Sam shrugged. He couldn’t give a good answer. “I don’t know, man. Maybe, maybe there’s a hex-bag here or,” he licked his suddenly dry lips, “or there’s a demon nearby.”

“Sure,” Dean said, considering it. He was still staring at Sam and it made him feel uneasy, like he was being disected. Sam had to look away. He heard Dean get up. “Let’s go search the room then, Sam.”

“Right, okay,” Sam said.

They searched the room, fruitlessly trying to find anything out of the ordinary. No hex-bags, no traces of sulfur. Nothing. Just as Sam suspected. They headed out to the main lobby anyways and talked with the clerk on the duty, casually trying to gauge the guy’s reaction. Even when Dean tried to slip in a ‘Christo’, the kid didn’t flinch, just looked at the two funny. Probably thought the two brothers were drunk or something. Eventually they headed back to their room and Sam watched as Dean collapsed on the bed, tired. He looked down at the box of pizza. It was cold by now but he felt bad Dean hadn’t gotten a chance to eat any of it.

He took a slice of pizza and handed it out to Dean. Dean sat up on his elbows, staring at Sam with narrowed eyes, like he suspected Sam to jump him or something. As entertaining as the thought was, Sam just hung his head and said, “Here. I know you’re hungry, Dean. I want you to eat. Please.”

“What’s the catch?” Dean asked.

Sam looked up. “There’s no catch. I promise.”

“So you’re not going to try and feed me like a dog again?”

Sam could feel his face heat up in shame. “No, Dean. I’m not going to force you to do something you obviously don’t want to do,” he said quietly. It was such a stupid idea. And Sam had been too excited to consider Dean’s feelings in it. God, he wanted to make it up to his brother so badly. Wanted to show Dean how much he was sorry and how much he loved him. He imagined Dean under him, groaning in pleasure as Sam slowly, gently made love to him. Dean wasn’t a pet, he was a person. He was Sam’s brother. His lover. His soulmate.

Dean was still hesitant. “So you’re not going to try doing that again?”

“No. Not without your consent,” Sam promised. 

Dean took the pizza and Sam had to sigh in relief. “Okay. Thanks,” Dean said. Sam watched as Dean took a small bite. He moaned a little around the pizza. Sam found himself smiling. He missed this Dean. 

They ate pizza and watched one of Dean’s favorite slasher flicks, Hatchet Man. Sam wasn’t all that interested in slasher horror but it made his brother relax and for a moment, Sam could pretend everything was okay again. He sat back, scooting closer to Dean, pretended he couldn’t feel him tensing next to him.

Sam drifted to sleep that night easily with his brother beside him, snoring lightly. 

Azazel sat on the edge of the bed, that wide grin that showed perfect white teeth seemingly a permanent fixture on his face, eyes glowing gold. “Hey, Sammy.”

Sam sat up, tensing. “What do you want? And if you give me that crap about being your favorite and just wanting to check up on, so help me…”

Azazel held up his hands, “Easy now, tiger.” He leaned forward, looking Sam up and down. “You _are_ my favorite, son.” Sam snorted. “It’s true. Don’t believe me?” The demon cocked his head to the side.

“Sorry, but why should I believe anything a _demon_ says? Especially one that killed my mom?” Sam snarled.

“Oh, you finally figured it, huh? Took you long enough, Sammy-boy,” Azazel said.

“So why did you do it?” Sam asked. “Kill my mom, that is? And you killed Jess too, didn’t you? She burned the same way mom did.”

“Oh, Jess. That pretty little Beta girl you tried to get with in college. That the Jess you’re referring to?” Azazel asked, grinning. Sam didn’t say anything, didn’t want to give the demon the satisfaction of seeing how much it’s words were affecting him. The demon just shrugged, apparently not caring that Sam was suddenly not talkative. “She had to die. They both had to die. Just the way the world works,” Azazel said nonchalantly.

“Why though? If you want me, why kill them?” Sam asked through gritted teeth. He could feel anger bubbling in him. It wanted to lash out.

“They got in the way,” the demon told him. Sam looked at him questioningly and Azazel said, “For my plans for you.”

“What plans?” Sam asked. _Why me_?

“You’re going to do great things, Sammy,” Azazel told him. “You and your powers. You can already feel it, can’t you? That boiling rage? That darkness? It’s always been in you, Sam. Here, take a look.” The demon snapped its fingers and suddenly it was like they traveled back in time. Sam was suddenly back in their old house. He stumbled back when he saw the crib. He could hear a baby wailing, and the demon was looming over it.

“What? Is that...was that me? What are you doing?” Sam shouted, enraged, as he watched the demon cut itself, watched as blood ran down its arm, dripping down into the crib. He staggered to the crib to get a better look. Stared in horror as blood dripped onto the baby’s lips, onto his lips. 

“What’s going on?” Sam whirled around to see his mom standing at the threshold of the room, looking horrified and angry. 

“Mom?” it slipped out before Sam could think.

Azazel turned around and Mary Winchester’s eyes widened in recognition. “It’s you.”

Everything happened so quickly after that. Just as Mary launched herself at the demon, she was lifted into the air, onto the ceiling, and Sam turned to stare at Azazel, who was still sitting on the bed. “She knew you. She fucking knew you!”

Azazel just grinned and snapped his fingers and suddenly the room disappeared and the motel was back. Sam stumbled, disoriented. “So what do you think, champ?”

Sam needed more time. He didn’t understand. He stared at the demon, still uncomprehending. He had a darkness in him. He had demon blood in him. Oh god, the same demon that killed his mom, that killed Jess, it fed him its blood. Sam could feel bile rising up his throat. He wanted to puke. Was he...did this mean he was evil?

“Just...why?” Sam asked, his knees felt like they’d buckle under him.

“Why what, Sammy? That I picked you? That I killed your precious mommy and Jess?” Azazel asked, his tone turning mocking. Sam could only nod. Why did it pick him? Why torment him? Of all the people in the world, why Sam? He watched as the demon got up and walked over to him. Azazel put a hand on his shoulder. It felt too comforting, too much like how Dean would touch him after Sam got hurt and he needed his brother. But this was a demon. Not just any demon. The demon. The one the Winchesters had been chasing their whole lives. He tensed. 

The demon leaned over so that he could feel its hot breath across his ear, “Because, Sammy, it just had to be you. It was always going to be you. You’re going to lead us to victory. You and that brother of yours.”

Sam tried to pull back. Dean? What did Dean have to do with any of this?

The demon laughed, “Your Omega bitch has everything to do with this. Your so called ‘love’ for him is what got little, innocent Jess killed. No matter where you go, Sammy, that darkness of yours, that obsession you have with him, will lead you right back to where you belong.”

Sam swallowed. “And where is that? Where do I belong?”

Azazel tilted his head. “Why, with me Sammy. With hell. You’re the commander in chief, after all. The boy king.” Sam froze. What? A million questions, a million thoughts were buzzing in his head and he opened his mouth to demand the demon to explain what he meant but Azazel just grinned and said, “Whoops. Looks like I held up too much of your time, boy king. Looks like your bitch is trying to run away. Better wake up and get him back.” He paused, looked Sam directly in the eyes, “We’ll meet again real soon, Sammy.” Then he snapped his fingers and Sam bolted up.

Sam could feel his heart thundering, his hands were shaking and clammy. He looked over to where Dean had been asleep and found it empty. Fuck. Fuck, Dean actually left. He clenched the bedspread tightly. He had to get Dean back.


	14. i'll find you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some canon a/u. Again thanks to all the comments and kudos!

Sam headed straight to the clerk on duty. It was a young girl, looked to be in her early to mid twenties with long red curls. She looked up from her book, smiling as Sam came stomping over. “Hi, sir. Is there anything I can help you with?” she asked.

Sam rubbed the back of his neck, looked at her nervously. “I’m looking for this guy, I came in with him yesterday. He’s about this tall,” Sam raised his hand to just under his forehead, “he’s got dark, blond hair, cut military short. He’d be wearing a leather jacket, and boots.”

“Um,” the girl tilted her head, thinking.

“He’s my brother,” Sam said, leaning forward. “Please. I really need to know if you’ve seen him. I woke up this morning and he was just gone.” He tried to convey the desperation in his voice, in his eyes. Which wasn’t hard. He was feeling desperate. He had to find Dean. 

The girl bit the bottom of her lips as she looked Sam up and down. There was pity in her eyes. “I saw him about an hour ago. Didn’t say a word, just left. I think he got in that old, black car parked in the front.”

“Was it...a Chevy Impala?” Sam asked, swallowing. 

The girl just looked at him, shrugging helplessly. “I’m sorry. I don’t know, sir. I’m not good with cars.”

He dug into the back of his jeans and pulled out his wallet. He took out an old picture of him, Dean and their father sitting on top of the Impala. It was the only picture he had of his family. He unfolded it and held it out for her to look at it. “Did it look like this?”

She nodded, “Yeah. That’s the car. That’s the guy.” She looked back at Sam. “You know, he seemed to be in a hurry. Maybe he went to grab a quick breakfast,” she suggested as Sam tensed. “There’s a diner just up the road. Five minutes tops.”

“Maybe. Anyways, thanks for your time,” Sam said, folding the picture back and tucking it into his wallet again. He put his wallet back and watched as she nodded and went back to reading her book. He headed back into their room and checked to see that Dean hadn’t touched any of their stuff. He left his duffel bag, still opened. He could see Dean’s clean clothes from where he stood in the middle of the room. The only thing that seemed to be missing were Dean’s guns and wallet and cell.

It was a long shot but Sam grabbed his phone off the nightstand, flipped it open and speed dialed Dean. It rang a few times before going to voicemail. He tried again and it did the same thing. He tried once more and it went straight to voicemail this time. Sam couldn’t believe Dean actually took off. He took the fucking Impala too. He could feel his grip on the phone tighten. The anger inside him was swirling around trying to get out.

After everything Sam had done to help Dean. How selfish could his brother really be? He tried to calm himself down. Where would Dean go? His mind flashed back to how weirdly in a hurry his brother had been to get to their father. Fuck. Dean was going to Minnesota without him. Sam could feel his anger coiling again. It was always dad. Always fucking John Winchester. Why couldn’t Sam ever win?

Dean taught Sam how to hot-wire a car when he was fifteen. At the time, he thought it was stupid and completely unnecessary. He didn’t care about hot wiring cars, picking locks, hustling pool or gambling cards. He didn’t even like hunting. But Dean liked all of them, was taught to like them all, and Sam liked Dean so he endured just to get closer with his brother. He liked the way Dean would grin and pat him on the shoulder when he picked it up quickly, just as eager to teach Sam as Sam was eager to learn.

Now, he was glad Dean taught him this stuff. He grabbed all of their things, checked out of the motel and ran to the furthest car that looked like it wouldn’t be missed and smashed the window in, unlocked the car and climbed in. He had to get to Dean before he went to dad. Dean had an hour head-start but Sam knew where he was going.

It would take them close to ten hours to get there. He figured Dean would make a few pit stops along the way too. He gritted his teeth, imagining Dean getting to John. There was no time to waste, he was going to get there before Dean. He peeled out of the parking lot.

The drive was long and Sam couldn’t help but think back to what Azazel said. Sam had a darkness in him, had it since he was a baby. He was destined to lead demons like Azazel, become their champion. He called him ‘Boy King’ like it was a title. Sam could feel the darkness inside him. The anger. He was angry, almost always angry. About small stuff, big stuff, everything. His mind replayed last night. When he got mad at Dean for not wanting to do something Sam wanted. He watched over and over as Dean’s body slammed into the wall. His mind flashed back to when his mom burned up on the ceiling. That was his fault too. Then Jess’ death flashed before his eyes, her mouth gaping, her eyes staring down at him in horror. Accusing.

“ _You could’ve stopped it, Sam_ ,” she mouthed. “ _You could’ve just stopped loving your brother to the point of obsession and the demon wouldn’t have any interest in me. Sam, it’s your fault I’m dead._ ”

God. Mom. Jess. Dean getting hurt. It was because of Sam.

Because Sam was such a freak. Did he even deserve his brother? Did he deserve someone as pure and beautiful as Dean? No wonder he ran from Sam. Sam’s fingers curled around the wheel. Sam was a freak of nature. A fucking _monster_.

Part of Sam wanted to head the other day, stop pursuing Dean. Hadn’t he done enough damage to his brother? Hadn’t Dean suffered enough? He remembered the night when Sam claimed Dean, turned him into an Omega. Oh god. Hadn’t Dean said ‘no’? Didn’t he shake his head? Did Sam really…? Desperately, Sam shook the thought away. He wouldn’t. He would never. It was a mistake. It didn’t happen. He just wanted what was best for Dean. Maybe it was a little selfish of him to think that was with him, maybe it was Sam’s own desires entering the mix, but...he couldn’t imagine Dean happier with their father, who left them both in motels, moved them from town to town so neither could get an effective education, took away the chance at a normal apple pie life. Why would Dean ever choose that bastard over Sam? 

Yeah, Sam made mistakes. But so did John. And Sam was trying despite the mess, despite being a monster. John...it wasn’t fucking fair. Dean couldn’t possibly choose their father over Sam. The guy who cared only about hunting the yellow eyed demon than his children. He cared only about avenging their mother, who was dead. But here Dean was, here Sam was. Alive. And he couldn’t prioritize them even once.

How many birthdays did John miss because of a hunt? Because he thought he had a lead? How many Christmases did they have to spend in crap motels? How many times did Sam have to lie to the few friends he managed to make in school about where he and Dean were staying? How many times did Dean have to comfort Sam when they were kids because he thought a monster got into the room and was hiding under the bed? And every goddamn time, no matter how tired and lonely Dean felt, whenever John came back, he always got Dean to stand at attention like he was at a fucking boot camp, waiting for John to give out orders. Ready for whatever their dad said, wanted to do, it didn’t matter. Dean would run himself to the ground for the old man and he didn’t even notice. Didn’t care.

Sam was getting tired by the time he hit the border of Minnesota. He found an empty lot and parked the car, deciding a couple hours of sleep would do him some good. He slipped under easily, and woke up a few hours later. It was dark out. It was almost midnight and he left the parking lot after a moment. He knew he should just leave Dean alone. It was obvious his brother didn’t want anything to do with him. But part of him wanted to apologize. He wanted to get down on his knees and tell Dean how sorry he was, that he realized what he’d done, everything he’d done, was wrong. Even if his intentions had been good. Even if he’d been doing everything to save Dean, to help him understand. He just wanted his brother back. He wanted it just to be Sam and Dean against the world like before. Why couldn’t he fucking have that?

He didn’t get to Blue Earth until sometime in the morning. It was a small, quiet town and Sam opened his phone, debated on calling Dean again. He could leave him a message. Or...he could call dad. He could see if Dean got to John yet. If he even answered. Sam hesitated. He needed to see Dean. God, he was so fucking pathetic. He felt like he was eight years old, needing his big brother to comfort him.

He closed his phone and pocketed it. His eyes lingered for a moment, wishing Dean was sitting next to him. Sam took a deep breath, let it out and drove to the coordinates John sent to them a few days ago. It turned out to be a small motel. 

When Sam walked in, the clerk, a teenager, looked up from his phone and said, “Hey, are you one of those detectives?”

Sam headed straight over to him, interest peaking. He knew dad had been waiting for them to show up. He probably gave the clerk a heads up. And it sounded like he was still expecting him, which meant that either Dean didn’t show up yet or Dean did show up but didn’t tell dad what happened. Considering how stubborn Dean was, he wouldn’t be surprised if he lied to John. He couldn’t hide his new Omega smell though. Unless he found some scent blockers. Which again Sam wouldn’t put it past his brother. Pride. Dean was very prideful.

Sam cleared his throat, “Uh, yeah.” He took out his wallet and pulled out one of the ID’s Dean made for them. “My name’s Cole.” He didn’t give a first name, just smiled and pulled the ID back as the teen looked back down at some of the papers.

He nodded and handed Sam a key. “Room’s down the hall. To your left.” 

“Thanks,” Sam said. He took the key and quickly walked down to the room. He got to the room and tried the handle. It was locked. He put the key in and twisted it. He could hear the soft click as the door unlocked. He opened the door slowly. Sam could feel his heart thundering.

This was it. The moment of truth.


	15. sam and john

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the confrontation everyone's been waiting for!

The door swung open and Sam stepped in. “Hello?” he called, looking around the empty room. There were a couple bags on the floor and lots of newspapers and maps on the walls so John had definitely been here. He just wasn’t here now. Neither was Dean. Sam sighed, walking into the middle of the room. Where were they? He took a closer look at the articles pinned to the walls. There was a report about a middle aged woman with her neck bitten, her blood drained from her body. Sam frowned and moved to the next article. It was the same thing but with some younger guy. And another one with a teenage girl. All drained of their blood.

It sounded almost like a… “Vampire,” Sam mumbled. But that was impossible. They were extinct. Even John wrote it in his journal. He and Dean came across that entry weeks ago. Vampires had long since died out. Didn’t they?

He stared at the wall for another moment. Whatever was draining these people, it had something to do with the lead their dad found, it had to have some inkling of importance or else he wouldn't have all these articles hung up. So where the fuck were they now? Sam had to see them. Had to see Dean. He took out his phone. Flipped it open. He scrolled through the contacts, hesitated as he hovered over Dean’s number. He stared down at it. He wondered if Dean would pick up this time. He wanted so badly to hear Dean’s voice. God he missed him. Sam took a breath and speed dialed John Winchester.

John picked up on the second ring, “Sam?”

“Hey, I’m at the motel. Where are you?” Sam asked.

There was a moment of silence, before John said, “We’re at Pastor Jim’s right now, Sam. Get here quick.” Then he hung up.

Sam stared down at the phone. He hadn’t heard Pastor Jim’s name in a long time. Since he and Dean had been kids, when their father was on a case and he left them at the Pastor’s. It turned out he was a friend of John’s. A priest turned hunter. Sam remembered loving it there because the Pastor had been nice and didn’t talk about hunting like their father did. He grabbed one of the articles from the wall, folded it up and tucked it into the back of his jeans. John’s voice over the phone had been urgent and Sam wondered what was going on with Jim. It had to be important.

John texted him the address and Sam followed it to Jim’s place. It was a nice house on the outskirts of town. Large amounts of land could be seen for miles in every direction. It should’ve felt isolated, but Sam just felt free seeing nothing but farm land.

He saw the familiar Chevy Impala and knew without doubt, his brother was here. He parked next to it and got out. There was the smell of burning wood coming from behind the house and Sam followed it. He came across his father and Dean standing in front of a massive pyre, smoke and fire blazing high into the air. Sam stared at it in surprise, nearly stumbling back. John and Dean both noticed the movement and turned to look at him.

John inclined his head. “Sam.”

Dean didn’t say anything, his expression unreadable. He turned back to stare at the fire.

“Is that?” Sam swallowed, couldn’t say it.

John just nodded. “That’s Jim Murphy. Good friend of mine. Found him dead in the church a few days ago.”

“What,” Sam began, trying to shake the shock off, his hands still trembled. “How’d he die?” _What killed him_?

“We don’t know yet,” Dean said, the first words he spoke. He still wouldn’t look at Sam. 

“I suspect it’s a demon though,” John said. He turned back to stare into the fire as well. “He called me a couple weeks ago when I was searching for the colt. Said it was urgent and to come here quick. So I did. As quickly as I could at least.”

“As quickly as you could,” Sam repeated, looking at the corpse of Pastor Jim. He hadn’t just been John’s friend. He hadn’t just been a hunter and a priest. He had been a father figure to both Sam and Dean. They spent almost an entire summer here when Sam was almost eleven. When John said ‘quickly’, Sam suspected it wasn’t quick enough. He didn’t just put everything down and rush over to try and aid his friend. He was in the middle of a hunt. He had to finish it, whatever it may have been. Then he’d go and try to help. Because if it didn’t pertain to the demon, no matter who you were, you’d be last on the list of priorities. That was how John worked. Sam, Dean, they knew that better than anyone.

“I had to find the colt first,” John said. He pulled out a gun and at first glance, Sam thought it didn’t look like much. It looked like any other gun he’d ever seen. “This gun...this is the gun that Samuel Colt made.” He took out a couple bullets and held them up so that both Sam and Dean could take a good look at it. “With the gun and these bullets, it can kill any supernatural creature. That includes demons. Yellow eyes or not, this gun can kill it.” He put the bullets back in, and Sam could see all the intricate designs on it. This was the thing John Winchester had been chasing after their whole lives. The thing that could kill the demon that tormented their dreams.

Sam felt his throat go dry. “And you said you found it in Colorado?” he asked.

“Yeah. A vampire nest,” John said.

“But vampires are extinct!” Sam exclaimed.

Dean snorted. “That’s what I told him too.” Dean finally turned to look at Sam, a small easy smile on his face, one eyebrow raised. He looked him up and down. “Sam.”

God, for a moment it felt like everything was back to normal. Dean was smiling at him, looking like he did when he first picked Sam up at Stanford, when he practically begged him to come back to hunting with him. Sam found himself taking a step toward his brother, the urge to hug him, to kiss him and hold him and take in his sweet scent, it nearly overwhelmed Sam. But then he saw the way Dean tensed, ready to take a step back and Sam couldn’t even pretend. He fucked up. He fucked it all up so bad and he just wanted Dean back.

That was all he ever wanted.

“Right,” Sam said, nearly choking on the word. He looked at his father, watched as John glanced from Dean to Sam, brows furrowing like he was trying to figure out what was going on between them. Sam cleared his throat. It wasn’t any of his business. He tried to focus on the issue at hand. The one about pastor Jim. “So you found the colt in a vamp’s nest and you what? Just let Pastor Jim die?” 

John just stared at him, eyes narrowing in anger. It was just typical of their father to get caught up like that. His friend called him and he couldn’t just go to him? “I was in Colorado, Sam,” John said. “Yes Jim called me, but he only felt like something was following him. He didn’t have any concrete proof. And I was still investigating the nest of vamps at the time, who by the way had been luring and draining people of their blood.”

Sam hesitated, feeling the folded article in his back pocket. He remembered reading about the victims. It was awful. But it was just as awful for Pastor Jim to die because their father couldn’t be bothered to get there faster. And it wasn’t like he went there trying to hunt down vampires because they were feeding on people. It wasn’t out of the goodness of his heart. John had gotten wind of the one thing that could take down the demon and he went after it. It was just a coincidence that supernatural creatures had it. 

Fuck. Sam clenched his hands, suddenly angry at his father. “That doesn’t fucking matter,” Sam growled, taking a step forward. “Pastor Jim told you he felt like something was following him? Look!” He pointed to the pyre, watched as John hesitantly glanced over. “Looks like it was more than a feeling, dad.” _He’s fucking dead because of you._

“Okay, look, just calm down, Sam. I get it. I fucked up, okay?” John said, running a hand through his hair. Sam tried. He could see how tired his father was, how drained of energy he was. How his eyes had dark bags under them like he hadn’t slept at all last night, how his brown eyes looked haunted. He knew he fucked up. Royally. He knew he chose the colt over a friend. And Sam wasn’t helping by piling on the guilt. But Sam couldn’t stop himself.

All he could see was mom burning on the ceiling. Jess burning. People dying everywhere the Winchesters went. Pastor Jim in the fire. They were cursed. Everyone either got hurt or died. 

“Yeah, you really fucked up,” Sam said quietly. The darkness inside him snarled, trying to get out. 

“Sam?” John must have seen something in Sam’s eyes, something that scared the shit out of him. His hand went to grab the gun sheathed on his belt.

“ _No_!” Something in Sam lashed out and the gun flew out of its holster and onto the ground by Sam’s feet. Both John and Dean just stared at Sam like they couldn’t believe what they just saw. Sam swallowed. Fuck. Now they both knew what kind of freak Sam was. 

“Sam?” It was Dean this time. He was looking at Sam with wide eyes. Sam wanted to turn away. God this wasn’t. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Dean wasn’t supposed to know. Neither of them were. He could see Dean take a hesitating step forward, his hands stretched out like he was trying to calm a wild animal. God. Was that what Sam was now? “Sam, hey, look, just-”

“Dean!” Their father’s voice rang out sharply, causing Dean to whirl around. “Get out of the way, son.” Sam watched with a kind of detachment as Dean, still bewildered, took a step back so that Sam could get a good look at the gun in John’s hands. The colt was pointed at Sam.

Sam froze, paralyzed to the spot with a million different emotions. Fear. Betrayal. Sadness. But more than any of those emotions, he felt anger. 

Hot and boiling.


	16. point of no return

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings: violence, murder, death, temporary death

“How did you do that, Sam?” John’s voice pierced through Sam’s thoughts, jolted him back to reality.

He stared at his father in horror, the anger mixing into his other emotions. He felt like he was drowning. He didn’t know what he was supposed to say, how he was supposed to answer that. What did he want Sam to say?

That he knew the demon’s name? That the demon visited him from time to time? That it said that Sam was supposed to be the commander? Called him boy king? He was a freak, a goddamned monster. 

Fuck. Sam felt his throat go dry. He got mom killed, got Jess killed, used his powers on Dean. He watched as Dean glanced from John and then to him. He looked uncertain, nervous, like when he was eighteen and they went on that werewolf hunt with dad. It was the first time and John wanted Dean to stay and watch over Sam. And he remembered Dean getting into a fight with their dad. Remembered how annoyed and uncertain he looked as he stomped back to where Sam had been sitting pretending to work on his homework. It was the first and only fight he’d witnessed between them.

Dean didn’t look annoyed. He just looked scared and not sure what he was supposed to do. “Look, why don’t you put the gun down, dad? Nobody has to get hurt. We can all just talk this out like adults,” Dean was saying. He took a step toward Sam. Oh god. Dean was taking Sam’s side. After everything that happened, his brother was finally choosing Sam over their father. 

“No,” John said, glancing over to Dean. Sam swallowed, the anger trying to push through everything else. “Move, Dean. Get away from him.” He turned back to Sam. “How the fuck did you do that, Sam?”

“Do what?” Sam asked, swallowing. He still couldn’t believe his father was pointing the colt at him.

“Don’t play dumb, boy! You moved my gun. You fucking levitated it,” John snarled. “How the fuck did you do that? The only things I know that can levitate stuff are demons!”

Sam was panicking now. It sure fucking sounded like their dad was lumping him with demons. “I don’t know! I don’t know how I did it!” It was the truth. Or partly. He still didn’t understand how his powers worked.

John glowered. “Liar!” he growled. He took another step forward. “You know I had a chat with the psychic, Missouri Moseley, about a month or so back.”

Sam froze. “What?”

“Yeah. And boy was she damn scared of you, Sammy,” John said. “She said you’re doing something to your brother and you’re heading down god knows where. I tried to get your brother to tell me about it, but he won’t say, just clams right up. So I’m going to ask you now. What the fuck are you doing to Dean?”

“Dad-”

“Shut up, Dean!” John snarled and Dean shut up, eyes wide. “What the fuck are you doing to your brother and how the fuck did you move my gun, Sammy?”

“Look, dad, I’ll explain as soon as you put the gun down,” Sam said, trying to calm himself.

But it was like John didn’t hear him, or chose to ignore him. Too angry to listen as Sam tried to reason with him.

He clicked the safety off and suddenly all Sam could see was the gun pointed at him. All he could hear was the roaring click and then suddenly it was like everything happened in slow motion, like in a movie. Sam raised out his hand, trying to deflect whatever was coming just as Dean shouted, “Wait!” and launched himself in front of them, trying to grab the gun as John pulled the trigger, eyes wide in surprise, toppling backwards from the sheer weight of Dean. His head hit the ground with a thud.

Sam blinked back into reality, taking in the sight of his brother, lying eerily motionless on top of their father. He wasn’t sure what happened. He caught a flash of trying to push John back, but Dean jumped in and got caught in the blast. He remembered hearing the deafening shot of the colt firing. He stumbled over, his legs buckling, feeling suddenly weak and nauseous. He could see the back of his brother's shirt, soaked in dark red.

Oh god. He stumbled to the side, doubling over, ready to be sick. Dean. Red. Dean’s back was covered in nothing but red. He turned back around, suddenly dizzy, reached a shaking hand to turn Dean over.

“Dean?” he whispered. 

Oh fuck. He had to turn away again, puking to the side of his brother’s body. Dean’s eyes stared up into the sky, unseeing. There was blood gushing from the bullet wound just over his heart. Their father fucking shot him. He killed him. It was supposed to be Sam. Their dad had been aiming at Sam but Dean got in the way. He heaved again, feeling everything he ate last night come back up. This wasn’t how it was supposed to end. Dean was supposed to be with Sam. They were supposed to get out of hunting and buy a house and start a family and live happily ever after.

Once he came back to himself, he rose to his feet again. He felt numb, shocked. There was a heavy tiredness that was settling over his bones. He stumbled back over to check to see if their dad was alive. Sam stood over the bodies, watched as John’s chest rose up and then went back down as he breathed. His eyes were closed and he was bleeding slightly on his forehead. He was still alive. Sam couldn’t help but replay what happened over and over.

Dean would still be alive if he hadn’t jumped in to try and take the gun from their dad. He’d still be alive if dad didn’t try to take the gun out, if he didn’t try and shoot Sam. Why? Why would he fucking do that? John was their father. Didn’t Sam matter? Why? Fucking why?

The more he thought about it, the more angry he became. He noticed the colt only a couple feet away. Sam raised a hand out and closed his eyes and concentrated on trying to make it fly into his hand. He imagined the gun doing so. He opened his eyes just in time to watch as the gun seemed to drag on the ground, like it was being pulled. It rolled a couple times before flying up into Sam’s outstretched hand.

He stared at it for a moment. It looked pretty up close and felt cold and just right in Sam’s palm. He pointed the gun down at John Winchester’s forehead. He could see Dean’s death playing over and over in his head. Could see his cold, dead eyes staring up into the sky. His brother was dead. Fucking dead. And it was because of their dad.

“You took Dean from me, you sorry son of a bitch,” Sam whispered. He pulled the trigger. The shot rang out into the night. 

Sam wasn’t sure what else to do but throw his dad’s corpse into the pyre that was still burning. He hauled Dean’s body up. He knew he should burn his brother, give him the proper hunter funeral he deserved but another part of him, that was bigger and selfish, wasn’t ready to let Dean go just yet. There had to be something in dad’s journal that could bring Dean back. There had to be. He walked back to the Impala, dragging Dean’s lifeless body behind him.

Sam was exhausted. He heaved Dean into the back. Laid him out so he was lying down, close his eyes so it looked like he was just sleeping. He could feel his eyes getting wet. He blinked back the tears. He fucking missed his brother and he hadn’t been gone longer than ten minutes. He found John’s journal under the seat. It probably dropped out of one of the bags.

He flipped through page after page until he reached one about summoning demons. He could summon a crossroads demon, see if they wanted to make a deal with him. He just needed to bury a box with a picture of himself in the middle of a crossroads. He remembered seeing one nearby, on his way here. Sam wasted no time.

It took him five minutes by car to make it to the nearest crossroads. Sam got out with a small box that he put a few personal items in, including a picture of the time he was in college. He looked around, took a deep breath and crouched down and started digging. He put the box in and closed up the hole. He stood up and waited.

It didn’t take long for someone to appear.

“Ah, there you are Sammy-boy.” The voice was familiar.

Sam whirled around to see Azazel grinning at him. He wore the same body from the dreams. “You, you’re a crossroad’s demon?” Sam asked. It didn’t feel right.

Yellow eyes glowed in the dark. “Nah. I’m much higher than that,” Azazel said. He crossed his arms as he studied Sam. “I just had a feeling you’d be coming and I did tell you, didn’t I? We’d be meeting real soon, you and I.”

Sam swallowed. “Well I came here to make a deal.” He couldn’t believe he said that, couldn’t believe he was standing around and trying to make a deal with the demon that killed his entire family. But all he could think about was getting Dean back. It always came back to his brother. Always Dean.

“For your poor, precious brother?” Azazel looked toward the car, like he could see Dean’s corpse from here. He probably could.

Sam just nodded. “Can you bring him back?”

He watched as the demon tilted his head. He shook his head after a moment. “I don’t have the juice to bring him back unfortunately.”

Sam tensed, his hands balled into fists. That wasn’t what was in the journal. Demon deals could bring people back to life. “If I made a deal, you could,” Sam told him.

Azazel just leaned back, a grin on his face. “My, my, someone did their homework.” He paused. “It doesn’t matter though, I’m afraid. You don’t have anything I’d want.”

“I thought you wanted me,” Sam growled. Wasn’t that what the demon had been telling him for the past month now? Sam was special. He was the favorite. He was the boy king. 

“I think you misunderstood me. I _already_ have you, sport,” Azazel said.

Sam could feel his desperation growing. “I just, there has to be something you want.” Please. Sam knew he was pathetic, practically begging with a demon for any way for Dean to come back. He just needed Dean back.

Azazel sighed, “Okay, Sam, begging really isn’t a good look on you.” Sam could feel his heart thundering. “Look, I may know a way to save your brother. It’s a spell of sorts. A very dark one.”

Sam stared at the demon. There was a way to bring Dean back? He didn’t care what he had to do. “What is it?” he asked almost eagerly.

The demon held up his hand. “There is one thing I do need from you before I tell you what the spell is,” Azazel said.

“Okay, what do you need?” Sam asked.

“I need you to accept your place as commander,” the demon told him cryptically.

“Commander of what?” Sam asked, for the first time, hesitating.

Azazel smirked. “Why of your army, of course.”

“My...army.”

“The demon army you’re destined to lead.”

Oh. God. He was supposed to lead a goddamn army? And not just any army. A fucking demon army. But he had no choice. Not really. If he wanted Dean back alive, he had to accept the demon’s offer. Dean would forgive him after all this was over. After Sam brought him back. Dean would rather be alive, wouldn’t he? Of course. Everything Sam was doing right now was for Dean.

“Okay,” Sam said. “I’ll lead your army if you tell me the spell to bring my brother back.”

Azazel’s smile just widened. Sam could feel something stir in him. He pretended not to notice, pretended he didn’t feel like he just sold his goddamn soul. “That’s great, Sammy. Knew you’d come around eventually,” Azazel said. “See, kiddo? This is why you’ve always been my favorite. Now let's seal that deal, my commander."

The spell was dangerous and dark magic, alright. He needed to do the ritual on a full moon and drain the blood of a virgin and pour it into a tub with the corpse of his brother. Then he had to say a few words in Latin and it was supposed to bring Dean’s soul back. It was a soul binding spell essentially. It would mark Dean’s soul with Sam. Let him live for as long as Sam did. 

And after Sam accepted the demon’s condition, Azazel told him Sam would live forever. So basically, Dean would live forever too. The only downside to the spell was that whenever Sam was hurt, Dean would be too. He’d feel everything Sam felt and vice versa.

This was the best outcome Sam could hope for.

The only thing he regretted was the innocent sacrifice he had to make. But this was for Dean. He’d gone too far to turn back now. Dean sacrificed everything for Sam. It was Sam’s turn now. 

“I’m sorry,” he told the teenager sincerely. The kid’s eyes stared up at him, terrified out of his mind. Sam was a monster, wasn’t he? He was evil. He was going to lead an army of demons soon. So honestly, in the grand scheme of things, this was minor compared. Wasn’t it? The darkness in him swirled and hissed. He’d make it quick for the kid. Just a quick stab into his heart. “Close your eyes, kid,” he told the sobbing teen. “Just close your eyes. I’ll make it quick.” Terrified, the kid squeezed his eyes shut. If he wasn’t gagged, he’d probably try and beg him to let him go. Sam knew he’d do it, let the poor kid go, that was why he gagged him. He took a deep breath, steeled himself. This was for Dean. He was doing this to save his brother. To bring him back. He stabbed the boy. 

Let his blood slowly drain into the bathtub where he placed his brother’s naked corpse in. He looked down at the piece of paper with the words he had to say to complete the spell. He glanced down at his brother. He was pale and cold now. It had been a week since he died, but slumped in the bathtub like this, it was easy for Sam to imagine Dean was just taking a nap. When the bathtub filled with the blood, Sam spoke the words out loud.

It took a few minutes to work. Suddenly Sam gasped, feeling a tingling travel through his body. He doubled over when the feeling reached his chest. He wondered if this was what it felt like for his soul to be marked. He heard a loud gasp and looked up to see his brother jolting awake.

Sam rushed to the tub, steadying his brother to a sitting position, kneeling down next to the tub. “Oh god, it worked. Dean, you, you’re here,” Sam mumbled, pulling Dean closer, leaning in his head on his brother’s shoulder.

“What? Sam?”

“Shhh, shhh, it’s okay. Everything’s okay now,” Sam whispered into his ear, stroking his hair. “I’m here, Dean. I’m here, and I’m not ever going to let you go. Not going to let anyone take you from me.” Not again.

**The end of Part 1**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made that ritual up at the end. Also this is the point of no return. Like I've been saying before, it's going to get pretty dark after this. You're perfectly fine to stop reading at this, but I do have an actual ending in mind. The next part is going to be posted tonight and it's going to be dark. Sam has officially snapped. I'm sorry for anyone who was holding out hope for him. I promise I'll write a happier story where team free will are all good guys. Thanks again for all the kudos and comments. I'm pleasantly surprised by how much attention this story has attracted so far. Okay see you again later tonight!


	17. just me and you now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **warnings** : length of chapter, collaring, nudity, mind manipulation, boy king!Sam, forced heat/sex

**Part 2**. 

Dean wouldn’t shut up. He had a million questions like what happened to dad, and didn’t he die and why was the tub filled with blood and oh god, what was a dead kid doing hanging off the side of the tub? And it didn’t even stop there. He wanted to know what was going on with Sam. “ _I mean it, Sam. What the hell_?” Even when Sam kept insisting there was nothing going on, Sam was fine. Dean was fine and very obviously not dead, never was dead. Dad was fine too. He went on a hunt or something. And the kid? What kid? Dean was seeing things.

Sam just wanted Dean to shut the fuck up for once. It wasn’t like he was in charge anymore. Sam was the one who had powers, he was the one who was going to lead an army of demons. And it was like a miracle because the next morning, when they woke up in Pastor Jim’s room, Dean wasn’t talking, couldn’t talk. He tried, Sam could see him trying to move his lips. Could see his muscles tensing, straining. But he just couldn’t. Because Sam didn’t want him to talk.

Ever since he accepted the demon’s offer, Sam felt strange. Almost relieved. The thing he’d been struggling against his whole life, the thing inside him that had always been there, coiled like a snake, it was gone. Like it’d never been there. It was like a sudden weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He didn’t need to deal with that prickling sensation in the back of his mind, that swirling darkness that threatened to consume him. It was so...freeing.

And now, he could do things. Things he never thought were possible. Like making his brother shut up just by thinking it. It was scary at first, freaked him out. Freaked his brother out even more. But Sam was getting the hang of it. He let his brother talk again. Dean was staring at him like he was a stranger, like Sam wasn’t really Sam. It hurt. It hurt worse than anything he could imagine. But Sam figured he’d just need a little more time to adjust. A lot happened in such a short time. Dean was back to the land of the living, after all - though Sam didn’t tell him that part. Not yet at least. And it wouldn’t be long before Dean would figure it out. Until then Sam was fine with not saying a word.

He was fine with pretending everything was okay again. Everything was back to the way it was supposed to be. He had Dean back. He was alive and breathing and his soul was bound to Sam. God, they were connected. Spiritually connected. This was good, more than good. Perfect. It was what he wanted all along. His brother. All of his brother. 

Now that John was dead, Sam didn’t have much to worry about. He decided he wasn’t going to waste any more time. They were going to get Dean chipped and collared. He didn’t want a regular collar though. Dean was too resourceful for anything like that. He was a hunter after all. He thought back to Azazel and his deal he made. He remembered Azazel offering to train Dean if he needed any help. He grabbed their bags and stood up.

“Come on, Dean,” he said.

Dean stared at him, green eyes watching him warily. “Where are we going?”

“Out of here,” Sam said vaguely. He turned to look at his brother when he noticed Dean was still rooted to the spot. He raised an eyebrow. “Unless you want to stay at a dead guy’s house.”

“That dead guy had a name, Sam. Jim Murphy,” Dean snapped. “And he was our friend.”

Sam grimaced, realizing for the first time how insensitive he must have sounded. Whoops. “Right. Sorry,” he apologized, rubbing the back of his head. He sighed. “It’s been a long night. I’m sorry, Dean.”

Dean seemed to relax at that, just a little. His shoulders still seemed to tense and he kept glancing at the door like he wanted to run. “No, it’s fine. Sorry I snapped,” Dean said.

Sam just raised his hand and the door slammed closed. Dean flinched at the sound. “Look, Dean, we both know what you’re thinking and I really advise against it,” Sam said.

He watched as his brother licked his lips. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

But he did. They both did. Sam just sighed, sitting back down on the bed. He wanted to make this easier on his brother. He wanted to ease Dean into his new life with Sam. But it was hard to do that when Dean kept insisting to fight every step. Didn’t he want to be with Sam? Sam saved him, after all. He was dead and he brought Dean back to life. Okay, maybe Sam’s powers freaked Dean out. It was a lot to take in. But Sam was still Sam. He was still the little brother Dean took care of his whole life. There was nothing really different about Sam. Not at his core, at least.

“Dean, come on, man. Just give in, already. You can’t run from me. Well, you could try but you really shouldn’t,” Sam told him. 

“Look, Sam, I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but if you’d let me help, we can fix it,” Dean said. He still hadn’t moved, though his hands were trembling and he was staring at Sam like he was afraid of him.

Sam didn’t want Dean to be scared. Not at him. Never at him. He rose to his feet, found himself walking over to his brother slowly. Dean took a step back but Sam didn’t want him to do that. “Don’t move, Dean,” he said, and just like that, Dean stilled again. Frozen in midstep. All he could do was stand there, staring at Sam with wide eyes. His hands were shaking harder, like he was straining against something, struggling. It was Sam’s powers he was fighting against. Sam could sense it. He doubled down and Dean went completely still, his hands falling limp, his fingers uncurled and relaxed. 

He stopped just in front of Dean. Took in his brother’s golden hair, his brilliant green eyes, the freckles that were sprinkled all over his face like stars in a cloudless night sky. His brother was so sinfully tempting. Sam reached out to touch Dean’s cheek. His skin was soft and warm. Dean parted his lips, probably to say something, but Sam wasn’t going to let him talk. He was tired of hearing Dean’s desperate attempts to leave. He wrapped his hand around the back of Dean’s head and crushed their lips together into a bruising kiss. There was no way he was going to let Dean leave him. Never again.

He could hear Dean moaning as Sam deepened the kiss, let his tongue dart out to taste the inside of Dean’s mouth. It tasted sugary sweet and he couldn’t get enough of it. This was Dean. His brother. His only family. And he smelled and tasted so amazing, he was pliant and responsive under Sam’s touch, like he was meant to be here, with Sam, moaning and chasing after Sam’s lips after he broke off the kiss. Sam smiled, seeing sweat running down Dean’s face, his skin starting to get warm and tingly.

Sam had let Dean go during their kiss and it seemed like his body only just realized that. He caught Dean easily as he slumped forward, “W-what’s going on?” He looked up at Sam, his eyes turning glassy, “Sam?” He was panting heavily, like he’d just run a marathon.

Sam slowly led them to the bed. He laid his brother out, spread his legs. Kneeling between them, Sam said, “I think you’re going into heat, Dean.” He watched as Dean blinked, tried to raise his head, tried to shake it from side to side. “You’re an Omega now, remember?” Watching Dean struggle to try and understand what was going on, what was going to happen, was more arousing than it should’ve been. The way Dean was struggling with himself was just beautiful. Sam groaned, feeling his dick twitch in his pants. 

Dean looked even more feverish, gasping and writhing under the heat. Sam could see his jeans starting to soak through, the sweet, tantalizing smell of slick slamming into Sam. He couldn’t wait any longer. He had to get into his brother, had to fuck him. He yanked at his pants, pulling them down to his ankles. Dean was too lost in his head, panting and moaning, arching up, trying desperately to hump the air. Sam pulled his underwear off and then worked on his own jeans. His dick felt tight, too confined in the fabric. 

“I need you, Dean,” Sam said as he pulled his dick free. He moaned at the sight of his brother. Dean looked up at him, eyes glassy and unseeing. “God, look at you,” Sam whispered, placing a gentle hand on a bare thigh as he lined his cock up. “You’re so beautiful. You know that, Dean?” He pushed his dick into Dean’s leaking hole. He gasped, feeling Dean’s slick. It felt so good. He vaguely heard Dean’s low gasp as Sam pushed in all the way. He waited a moment for Dean to adjust, before moving back out a little. Then he fucked back in, slowly, gently.

Every thrust, every movement, Dean would make these small gasps, sometimes even moan or whine. Sam relished all the little sounds Dean made. 

Sam fucked his brother, that night, slow and worshipful. Sam wanted to show Dean how much he loved him, how appreciative he was of him. After all, his brother meant the world to Sam.

Sex had been amazing. Sam laid back next to Dean. He felt good. And Dean had fallen asleep, curled up next to him. He’d almost forgotten how relaxing Alpha cum was to Omegas. Almost like how catnip were to cats. He leaned over to kiss Dean on the forehead. He stared up at the ceiling, thinking back to everything that happened. When Dean died, he thought he’d lost everything. It felt like a piece of his soul left with Dean. But now he had him back. And he had the power to do whatever he wanted. He blinked, imagining the house he always wanted to live in with Dean. God, he could have that now. He could get a house and a dog and start a family. He felt himself smile. For the first time in years, Sam felt happy. Genuinely happy.

When Dean woke up, Sam was already dressed and packed up. He leaned against the door as he watched Dean start to slowly sit up. He looked down, face flushing when he realized from the waist down he was naked. He looked up to see Sam.

“Where are my jeans?” Dean asked.

“Packed,” Sam said. He watched as Dean’s eyebrows rose. “I like you like this.”

“Good for you,” Dean snapped. Sam knew his brother was a mix of angry and scared. “I want my pants, Sam.”

Did Dean really have to challenge Sam on this? Of all the battles to pick… Sam sighed. “And I said I like you like this.” He watched as Dean got up, glaring. Sam wasn’t going to back down though. Was his brother really so stupid? Picking a fight over pants? “It’s just pants, Dean,” Sam said.

Dean froze. His eyes narrowed. “It’s not just pants. Just, come on, dude. This isn’t funny.”

“No one’s laughing. I’m not giving you pants. Now sit down, shut up and just listen.”

Sam watched as Dean seemed to stiffen. He walked back to the bed and sat down and didn’t say a goddamn word. Fucking finally. “Okay. There are going to be a few changes, Dean,” Sam said, getting suddenly nervous. He could see his brother glaring at him. “But it’s for the best. I’m looking out for you,” he said, as Dean rolled his eyes. “I’m serious. I’m doing this for you. I’ve always done this for you. Look I know you can’t see it right now, but just trust me, okay? I’m your brother, man.”

He swallowed, “So anyways, I’ve got powers if you haven’t already noticed, Dean. I can make things happen. I don’t want to use my powers on you, but if you don’t behave, Dean, you’re not going to leave me a choice.” He didn’t like scaring his brother but Dean wasn’t giving him a choice here. He couldn’t have Dean thinking about running off. At least not before Sam could get Azazel to make him a collar that could help Dean learn some obedience. “Now you’re going to get into the Impala with me and we’re going to drive off to the crossroads.” He saw Dean furrow his brows, trying to figure out what was so important about the crossroads. “I’m going to summon a demon,” he clarified. Dean’s eyebrows shot up, he strained to open his mouth. Sam snapped his fingers.

“What the fuck, Sam? Why are you going to summon a demon?” Dean demanded.

“Don’t worry, Dean. It’s nothing bad,” Sam said vaguely. Dean, of course, did not stop worrying. 

“Sam, fucking let me go,” Dean said as he struggled against Sam’s hold. He was getting increasingly agitated. “This isn’t you, okay? We can fix this. Just not with the demon.”

Sam shook his head. He already made the deal. “No, Dean. I don’t need fixing. But we have to go to the crossroads. Now I’m going to give you a choice. You’re going to follow me into the Impala on your own free will or I’ll just make you come with me.”

Dean gaped at him. “You’re not, you can’t be Sammy. Christo.”

Sam glared at Dean. Did he just accuse him of being a demon? He stomped over to his brother. “I’m not a demon, Dean. I’m one hundred percent your brother, Sam. Now fucking stand up.” He couldn’t believe it. All this time, he thought he was finally getting through to Dean. At least a little. And Dean still thought he wasn’t Sam. That he wasn’t his brother. It was like when he ran away and chose their dad. It fucking hurt. Why was Dean being so damn difficult?

“I was going to let you wear clothes after a little while but you know what? That’s a fucking privilege you’re going to have to earn,” Sam snapped, realizing it was a little childish of him to do this to his brother - hadn’t Dean been through enough? - but Sam had to put his foot down at some point. He was getting sick and tired of Dean fighting him every single time Sam decided something. Dean wasn’t a fucking Alpha anymore so he didn’t get to make those decisions. And he certainly didn’t get to make Sam feel bad, and start questioning the choices he was making. It wasn’t like this was easy for Sam as it was.

Dean stood completely naked and Sam pulled his brother in front of him. He shoved him out of the room. “Come on, Dean.”

They got to the crossroads and Sam made Dean kneel down on the dirt. He stared up at Sam in defiance and Sam found himself turning away, not wanting to see his brother’s cold eyes. He buried the box and waited for Azazel to show up. The demon didn’t disappoint.

“Howdy, Sammy,” the demon said. “I see you brought your bitch today. What can I do for you, champ?”

“I’m actually here _about_ Dean,” Sam said.

“Oh?” The demon crossed its arms, looking at Dean with interest now. Dean stiffened.

“Yeah. I want a collar,” Sam said, “that can’t be taken off and makes it so he can’t ever run from me.”

“What the fuck, Sam?” Dean growled.

“Shut up,” Sam snapped and Dean didn’t say anything else, couldn’t say anything else.

“Ooh, isn’t he feisty?” Azazel commented.

“Look, I’m really not in the mood for small talk. Do you have something like that or not?”

“Maybe,” the demon murmured, pursing his lips in thought. He suddenly grinned and snapped his fingers. “Actually, I do know someone who specializes in that kind of stuff. His name’s Alastair. I’ll be back in just a moment.” He snapped his fingers again and vanished.

They waited five minutes before the demon reappeared. He was holding a black leather collar. Sam took it and inspected it. It was etched with different kinds of sigils. The collar also didn’t have any buckles to put on or take off. He looked at Azazel questioningly.

“It stretches and cinches around the wearer’s neck. The only person who can take the collar off is the one who put it on in the first place. All you have to do is think it,” the demon told him.

Sam nodded. He turned to his brother who was staring at him, daring him to put the collar on him. Sam tightened his grip on it, watched as it started to glow the closer it got to Dean. He closed his eyes and told it to stretch wide enough to fit around Dean’s head. He opened his eyes to see that it was getting wider and Sam was able to slip it over Dean’s head. He settled it around Dean’s neck and told it to tighten enough so that Dean could feel it.

He could hear Dean gasp at the sudden, unexpected tightness. 

He looked back to the demon. “So what does the collar do if he tries to run?”

“Why don’t you see for yourself?” The demon snapped its fingers and suddenly Dean was free. He doubled over, gasping and coughing. “Come on, Dean-o, why don’t you show your master how your new collar works?” 

“Fuck...you,” Dean said hoarsely.

“Now that isn’t very nice,” Azazel said. He flung him back a few feet. Sam watched in horror and excitement as Dean suddenly gasped, a burning sensation coursing through him. Sam could feel it, but just vaguely. Like an itch just under his skin. His brother doubled over in pain and Sam took a couple steps toward him, wanting to ease it.

As he got closer, Dean’s pain dimmed. He fell to the ground, curling on his side, panting heavily. “What t-the fuck, Sam?”

Sam crouched in front of him, reaching out to gently run a hand over Dean’s pale face. “It’s just insurance, Dean. Don’t worry about it.” He turned back to the demon who was watching them with a grin. “I have one more favor to ask you.”

“And what’s that, sport?”

“I want you to take Dean and I somewhere where we can’t ever be bothered by anyone or anything supernatural,” Sam said.

He could feel Dean’s eyes on him. Azazel frowned, as he crossed his arms. “You remember your end of the bargain?”

Sam nodded. “Of course. And I’m still going to do it,” he said. He looked down at Dean. “It’s going to be okay, Dean. I promise. Just, just go to sleep.” He watched as Dean started to blink, suddenly overcome with tiredness.

“Fuck...you,” he whispered before slumping forward.

“Okay then,” the demon agreed. “When the time comes, Sammy…”

“You’ll know where to find us,” Sam said.

The demon nodded and snapped its fingers.

Sam found himself waking up in a bed. Dean was naked beside him, still wearing the thin, leather collar. He blinked awake, as Sam pulled him into his chest. “Sammy?”

“Hey, Dean,” Sam said, leaning forward to kiss his hair.

“Where are we?”

“We bought a house, remember?”

“We did?” Dean asked, confusion in his voice. “When did we buy a house?”

“A few days ago,” Sam said easily. “Dude, how’d you forget? It was a real damn pain. Lots of back and forth for weeks. Don’t you remember all the phone calls we had?”

“I...uh,” Dean pulled back, squinting up at his brother. He shook his head. “No, I, fuck. I don’t remember anything, man.” Sam could feel Dean starting to panic. The past few weeks was a giant hole. “Dude, I think there’s something wrong with me. I can’t remember shit from the past few weeks.”

“Hey, wait, slow down, Dean. You’re not making any sense,” Sam said, trying to comfort him. He waited for his brother to calm himself down. Sam helped ease his brother to a sitting position. “What was the last thing you remember?”

“Um, a, hunt, I think,” Dean said, trying to think. He let out a frustrated huff. “I don’t know. Honest. Fuck!” He punched the bed in frustration. Then he paused, frozen to the spot when he realized he wasn’t wearing any clothes. “Um, Sam? Sammy?” He started to panic again.

Sam was sitting next to him, touching his shoulder gently. “Dean, Dean, you’ve got to calm down,” he said, moving his hand to the back of Dean’s neck. His brother started to relax when he applied the right amount of pressure. “What’s wrong, Dean? You’ve got to tell me what’s wrong or I can’t fix it.”

“I, uh, I’m naked,” Dean mumbled. “Dude, why am I naked?” He blinked, swallowed and froze again, realizing there was something around his neck. He reached his hands up and felt something leather. “Is that...am I wearing a collar?”

“Dude,” Sam said, licking his lips. How was he going to explain this part to Dean? He fidgeted nervously. “Dude, okay, let me explain. Just don’t freak out until after I’m done, okay?”

“Uh, okay, I can’t make any promises. Just start fucking explaining,” Dean snapped, feeling anxious and downright freaked out.

“Okay, okay,” Sam said. “Look, dude, you know how Alphas can get turned into Omegas by being, uh, fed Alpha cum?” He watched as Dean stiffen, his face turning red. He waited for Dean to nod. “Well, I found you in an alleyway near a bar, Dean. God, you looked fucking awful,” Sam told him, his hands starting to tremble. He watched as Dean digested what Sam was saying, could see the way he swallowed. He leaned his head on his brother’s shoulder, taking in his sweet Omega scent. “Dean, I’m sorry. I got there too late.”

“Doesn’t it take...you know, a lot to change an Alpha?” Dean asked, on the verge of panicking. 

“Yeah,” Sam whispered. “I think you pissed off a lot of guys, Dean. I told you. You looked fucking awful.”

“Fuck. So I’m an…”

Sam nodded, tightening his hug. “Yeah, Dean. I’m sorry.”

“So, then, what’s with the collar?” Dean asked. He paused. “Did you...register me, Sammy?”

“I had no choice, Dean. You thought it was for the best too,” Sam said. “You know how dangerous it is for unmated Omegas.”

“Right,” Dean said, licking his lips. He swallowed again. It was so much to digest, almost too much. “So we’re, we’re mated,” he said dully. “I’m your Omega.”

“Yeah,” Sam said. He leaned back to see his brother. “Hey, hey, it’s not all that bad, dude. At least you’re not some random asshole Alpha’s bitch,” he tried to joke. Dean flinched. Sam cupped his brother’s face gently, forcing Dean to meet his gaze. “We’re together, Dean. It’s going to be okay now. It’s like when we were kids. Remember?”

Dean sighed. He did remember. “Yeah, Sammy.”

“Welcome to the rest of our life together, Dean,” Sam said.


	18. being dean

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **warnings** : Dean's POV switch, his head is really messed up guys, lots of sex/straight up porn, Sam being really manipulative and dominant, cock cage, blowjob/face-fucking, knotting, general nudity.
> 
> This chapter is basically just porn and me trying to fill more of the kink prompt. Also again this really isn't consensual. Dean's memories are really fractured and being manipulated by Sam so even though he consents and goes along with it, he isn't in a position where he has full information of the situation. Just thought you guys would like some Dean POV. Anyways thanks again for all the kudos and comments!

“Wow, Dean, you look great,” Sam said as Dean came out of the bathroom.

Dean’s cheeks reddened as he rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “You think so?” 

He looked down at himself. He was wearing nothing but blue lace panties. He could see his cock straining in its cage underneath it. He looked back up at his brother. Sam’s eyes were dark with lust. He could smell his brother’s arousal in the air. Dean could feel his hole clenching, feeling empty, in response. He caught himself nearly moaning. God it was weird to be an Omega and nearly naked in front of Sam. But his brother said they’ve been having sex for a while now. And he trusted Sam. He’d raised him since he was a baby. Did Sam ever steer him wrong?

“God yeah, you’re beautiful,” Sam said. He was watching Dean like he was the most beautiful thing in the room, like he was the only thing in the room. 

Dean felt his face heat up even more and he had to look away because with the way Sam was gushing over Dean’s appearance, he was starting to feel like a goddamn virgin all over again. He could feel slick start to leak from his hole. And fuck was that a weird thing to get used to. He remembered being an Alpha and Alphas never got wet down there. It was a strange, though not unpleasant, sensation. Just different.

“C’mere, man,” Sam was saying when Dean came back to himself.

He felt compelled to walk over to his brother who was still laying on the bed. Sam was wearing a white tee shirt and blue faded jeans. He grinned as Dean climbed onto the bed, looking like a cat ready to pounce. Sam sat up on his elbows, “Suck me off.”

His brother’s commanding voice sent arousal straight to Dean’s own cock. “Fuck, okay,” Dean said, grabbing hold of his brother’s pants and trying to pull them down. He freed Sam’s hard cock, groaning at the sight of it. Wasting no time, Dean leaned his head down and licked the tip of his brother’s cock, causing Sam to moan in pleasure. Pleased with the response, Dean took him fully into his mouth.

“Fuck, Dean,” Sam groaned as Dean sucked his brother off. He reached over to wrap his hand around Dean’s hair. “Fuck, yeah, keep going. Feels so good.” Before Dean could process what was happening, Sam started to thrust further into his mouth, his hand tightening in his hair, not letting Dean break off to catch his breath. Dean started to choke as Sam fucked in and out of his mouth with vigor. “God, Dean…”

Before Sam could pop his knot, he let go of Dean. Dean pulled back, coughing. “Fuck, Sammy-”

“Turn over,” Sam ordered. He spun Dean around before he could even blink and found himself on all four, his panties pulled down to his ankles and Sam was leaning on top of him with his huge dick at his entrance. “I’m gonna knot you tonight, Dean, and you’re just going to sit still and look pretty and take it. Sound good?”

Holy crap. Yeah it fucking did. Dean moaned as Sam started to push in. “Fuck yes.” His damn (new) biology was messing with his head. He couldn’t think. All he wanted was his brother’s cock. The burn in his ass caused him to gasp and he tried to lean forward to get away but Sam had his hands gripping his shoulders real tight and all he could do was sit there as Sam pushed all the way in. “Oh god, Sammy,” Dean moaned, feeling full with his brother’s knot in him. He could feel his hole clenching around Sam’s dick.

Sam groaned, “Yeah, fuck, just keep doing that, Dean. Feels good.” Dean felt Sam move his dick a little. Short, shallow thrusts. He gasped. Then Sam’s dick started to pulse, spilling Sam’s seeds inside him. “Keep milking my dick. Yeah, fuck. Just like that, big brother.”

Dean sighed, feeling sated and sleepy. He laid back down on his stomach, his head resting on his arms. Sam was still on top of him, tracing a random pattern gently over his back. Dean shuddered under the touch. He could hear his brother chuckle into his ear, his breath ghosting over his sensitive, bare skin. “You know you’re really responsive,” Sam said.

“It’s because I’m an Omega,” Dean grumbled.

“Dude, you know that’s not true. I’ve met Omegas who aren’t nearly as responsive as you.”

“Yeah?” Dean asked, intrigued. Sam rarely talked about what he did with other people. Lately it was almost always exclusively Dean and sex and what Dean wanted to try, sometimes it was what Sam wanted to try too. But Sam had been so focused on Dean, it was a little overwhelming. It was nice not to be the direct subject of conversation for a change.

“Yeah,” Sam agreed. “There’s this one girl I met in junior year of high school…”

Dean raised an eyebrow. Whoa. He always assumed Sam was a virgin in high school. “Wait. You had sex when you were in high school?” He could feel Sam shrug on top of him. Imagined his brother’s smug, ‘yeah Dean, you’re not the only one who gets around’ look. “When the fuck did you have time to do that?” He knew he sounded childish and maybe a little jealous, but seriously. They moved from motel to motel almost their whole lives. Wouldn’t Dean have noticed if his brother came home late or something? Sam had been his responsibility his whole life.

“Dude, you may have raised me my whole life, but Dean, you aren’t my keeper.” It was like Sam could read his goddamn mind. “It was during that weekend you spent at a party. I said I was good to be alone for a little while.”

“Well goes to show you were a little lying asshole,” Dean grumbled but there wasn’t any heat in his voice. Just fondness.

“Yeah, well, turned out she wasn’t all that good. Not nearly as responsive as you, Dean,” Sam told him, his voice low and husky and causing his dick to twitch. If it could get hard, Dean was sure it would be by now. But the damn cage was still on and pressed down between his stomach and the bed, it didn’t feel all that great.

Dean groaned at the pain. “Think we can take the cage off now, Sammy? Really wanna get off,” he said.

Sam just sighed and pressed a kiss on his neck. “We already went over this, Dean.”

“But I’m sorry,” Dean whined, reaching a hand down to his cock. He felt Sam slap his hand away. “Please, dude. I promise I’ll be good. Come on.”

“You know you wouldn’t be in this mess if you didn’t try to touch yourself when I told you not to. It’s your fault, dude. Also it’s only for another few days. You can make it ‘til then,” Sam told him.

Dean knew it was his fault. It still didn’t make it any less annoying. Or fair. Sam made dumb rules and sometimes it felt like Dean was just set up to fail. He groaned as Sam suddenly moved his dick, which was still in Dean. The knot hadn’t deflated yet. “Fuck,” Dean grunted.

“You know, we could have sex all day today,” Sam said. “Like, I haven’t fucked over the desk yet. Just got it last weekend, remember?”

Dean rolled his eyes. “You’re insatiable, Sam.”

Sam leaned over and kissed Dean on the cheek. “And you love me for it.”

It has been weeks since Dean woke up in the house. Dean remembered some of the house negotiations. Sam had been on the phone for hours, shouting at the real estate agent. Dean had sat beside him, trying to calm Sam down, because jesus, it was just a damn house, _no need to bite the nice lady’s head off, Sammy, she’s just doing her fucking job._ He still didn’t remember much more than that. His memory was a giant hole and it fucking scared him but Sam filled him on what was missing. And Dean just nodded because that sounded like Sam and it sounded like Dean - getting freaking hammered may have been a little overboard after just getting done with a hunt but he did remember something about maybe hustling some dudes in a game of pool and it was very plausible they got pissed at him. Sam said he got there too late, the change was already taking place, so he did what any responsible brother would do and fucking registered Dean, but not without his permission.

There was something about the story that seemed a little off but Sam looked so sincere about it. Dean was still a little put off that Sam told him that after that, they basically quit hunting and made a life here. Dean was going to have to get used to domestic life. It wasn’t really what he envisioned for himself. He always thought Sam was the one gungho for the apple pie life, being normal, all that crap. But Sam wanted Dean here with him and it was _dangerous_ out there as an Omega and it wasn’t like Dean had a choice now. He was mated to his brother. He could practically feel the connection to him. Like something was compelling him to stay.

And this life wasn’t so bad, minus the whole not wearing clothes anymore. Sam said it was just when he was in the house. He could still wear clothes when they went out. Still felt weird, and maybe a little wrong, like Dean wasn’t supposed to like it. But it was his new life now, right? Sam was his brother and Dean’s new biology geared him to wanting to please Sam, which wasn’t all that far off to begin with. Dean’s whole life had been dedicated to caring for Sam, to protecting him. Now he serviced his brother sexually as well. Was it that much more of a step? It wasn’t like Sam didn’t reciprocate. The sex was awesome and Dean liked sex, even before having sex with his brother. They just had a hell of a lot more sex now that they didn’t hunt.

In the last couple weeks, Dean also found out Sam was one hell of a kinky bastard. They had bathroom sex just the other day where Sam surprised Dean by coming up behind him as he was still washing his hair, his body slick with water and soap, pushing his dick into him as Dean gasped in surprise. It was damn good sex, even if Dean nearly slipped. Last week, Dean woke up to Sam on top of him, trailing light, feathery kisses along his neck, thrusting in and out of him, large hand wrapped around Dean’s dick as he jerked him off all at once, Dean groaning at all of the intense sensations.

Dean wasn’t sure if Sam had always been like this - a kinky, never satisfied, sex fiend or if it was because of Dean. All he knew was that he liked having sex with his brother. He never thought about it before because well, they had been Alpha brothers, but now? Oh hell yes.

“You know what else we haven’t tried yet?” Sam asked hours later. They were laying on the bed still but Dean was playing one of those mindless apps on his phone. He shut it off and looked over at Sam.

“What?”

“Sex in the park,” Sam said.

Dean nearly choked on his spit. “ _What_?” It really was like Sam only thought about sex when he was with Dean.

“Come on, Dean, it’ll totally be fun. Just imagine: you completely naked and bent over a bench and me fucking into you while people watched,” Sam’s voice was low and promised of dark things.

Dean shivered at the thought. “What about kids?”

“What about them?”

“There will be kids at the park,” Dean said. He did not want to be seen having sex with his brother with children around. He watched as Sam just shrugged, like it wasn’t a big deal. God, what was wrong with him?

“So what?” Sam paused a moment, then he got this look Dean didn’t like. “You know it could be good for them to watch. Like sex ed 101 or something. Some of them are going to present as Omega one day and they’ll have to learn at some point.”

“You’re kidding,” Dean said. Sam leaned over to kiss Dean, and without thinking he bared his neck in submission, allowing more room for Sam to trail butterfly kisses down his skin. He gasped, struggling to stay annoyed with Sam. Fucking Omega biology. 

“Not kidding. You’re fucking hot, man,” Sam said. “Can’t help it. Might as well let the whole world see what a beautiful Omega I’ve got.” He started to take off Dean’s shirt and Dean let him, helping him by lifting his arms. Sam tossed the shirt off the side of the bed. “Fuck, I can’t seem to ever control myself around you, Dean.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” Dean panted, as Sam’s hands gently trailed over his chest, tweaking his nipples. Dean gasped as Sam rolled one of the nubs. “S-Sam.”

“Yeah, that’s my name, Dean,” Sam said, leaning forward to nibble his earlobe.

“Fuck,” Dean said, struggling to think under all of the sensations. He could feel Sam’s hard cock pressed against his ass. He groaned as Sam rubbed up against him.

“You’re just so irresistible,” Sam groaned, before pushing his cock in.

Dean gasped, “Uhh, dude. H-how are you still hard?”

“What do you mean?” Sam asked as he pulled out of him.

“We just had sex a couple hours ago,” Dean said, groaning when Sam thrust back in.

Sam gasped in pleasure as he pumped in and out of Dean. He grabbed Dean’s hair, pulling with each thrust. “Fuck,” he groaned. “You just feel so good, Dean.”

“I’m f-fucking sore, asshole,” Dean whined as Sam slammed into him.

“And you still love it. Admit it, Dean,” Sam said. He could feel his knot building up again.

“Yeah, okay. I enjoy sex.”

“With me. Say it,” Sam ordered, thrusting in and out. He pulled Dean’s head up.

Dean whined at the burning stretch in his ass just as the knot formed. “I enjoy having sex with you.” Sam’s dick pulsed again inside him.

“Oh fuck,” Sam said. “You’re so good, Dean. The fucking best.”

Yeah, sex with Sam was fucking awesome. By the time they were heading to bed, Dean found himself wondering if maybe the...thing at the bar had been a blessing in disguise. Maybe Dean had always meant to be an Omega. More specifically, Sam’s.


	19. memories lost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some more warnings of Dean's POV, Sam being a manipulative asshole, a bit more sex, lots more memory manipulation. I know a couple people were confused last chapter. Don't worry it was meant to be a little confusing, though I may have messed up with the time lapse. Last chapter was weeks after Sam started to really do all this crazy crap to his brother. There's some more time lapse in this chapter too. Anyways thanks again for the kudos and comments. I'm going to upload another chapter for tonight for you guys. I think the story is almost done now.

Dean was remembering more pieces as the weeks dragged on. He remembered before the house negotiations now. He remembered getting really wasted at the bar, which seemed a little weird for him especially when he was going to hustle people, but the memory was there in vivid detail.

The stench of alcohol, Alpha musk mingled with Omega sweetness, the laughter of drunk men and women around a pool table, the sounds of his heavy boots on the floor as he walked over to the table, grinning and swaying his hips, arms reaching shakily for a pool cue as he got into his ‘drunk’ hustling persona. Lost the first two games on purpose as he bet higher and higher until he finally got the guy to bet over two hundred dollars plus his really expensive looking watch.

He’d made a killing that evening. Dean shuddered, not wanting to remember what happened next. He already knew what the important stuff, the aftermath, from Sammy. Dean pushed the memory away, trying to figure out what to cook for tonight. He wanted to make something really special, to show how much he appreciated Sam’s support. Sam deserved it because lately Dean had been acting a bit like an ass. Since his memories have slowly been returning, Dean wasn’t sure why, but he still felt off. And he couldn’t shake the feeling and it was causing him to be annoyed with himself and in turn lashing out at the closest thing around him. Namely Sam.

Sam still comforted him though, which Dean didn’t really get because Dean was the one who couldn’t seem to control himself, couldn’t seem to stop trying to punch Sam. Dean just sighed, running a hand through his hair. He tried to push the feeling down, burying it in the back of his mind. But it was still there, small and nagging, telling him that something just seemed off about this whole situation. But again, Sam said this happened and now he was actually remembering it. Maybe he was just having more trouble adapting to being an Omega than he thought. He still didn’t like being confined to the house so much. He didn’t like that Sam got to work but Dean had to sit on his ass like one of those creepy Stepford Wives.

He looked in the fridge and found some shredded cheese. He decided he was going to make tacos tonight. He got everything ready and started to cook. By the time he was already done and was in the middle of a marathon of slasher flicks, Sam came through the door, looking tired.

“Hey, dude, welcome back,” Dean said, not looking away from the screen. Someone screamed as a knife stabbed into their back.

“Hey,” Sam said, sitting on the bed next to him. He pulled Dean onto his lap. Dean could feel Sam’s cock pressed against his ass, through the fabric of his jeans. He nearly moaned as Sam ground his cock into him. Then Sam’s hand was snaking over his stomach and trailing down to his cock. He squeezed it gently, causing Dean to gasp. “God, Dean, I fucking love the sounds you make,” Sam whispered into his ear.

“Fuck, S-Sammy,” Dean moaned as Sam tugged his cock a few times until it was fully erect. He increased his pace as he jacked Dean off, watching with hooded eyes as Dean gasped and spilled his load into his hand.

“Get on your hands and knees, Dean,” Sam said. And Dean found himself scrambling to obey, pushing his ass out so that Sam had easier access. He felt himself leaking down there, felt Sam’s finger at his entrance. Fuck, he was so wet, his hole clenching and unclenching in anticipation, feeling so empty and he needed his brother to fill him, like, now. It was like this almost all the time when he was with his brother. How the fuck do Omegas do anything these days when all they could think about was sex?

“Did I ever tell you how much I fucking love your ass?” Sam purred, before pushing a finger in.

Dean whined, pushing back. He needed more. Sam pumped his finger in and out a few times, the pace agonizingly slow and not nearly enough. “Come on, fuck, Sammy. Please,” he started to babble, his cheeks heating up. He could feel sweat forming. God, when did it become so hot?

Sam leaned over, adding another finger in, breathing in Dean’s amazing scent. He was in heat again. “Fuck, Dean,” he groaned, gripping Dean’s shoulder with his free hand. “You’re so perfect, so beautiful.”

Dean pushed back on Sam’s fingers, feeling feverish and dizzy and desperate to take more. He needed more. Couldn’t Sam see that? “Please, just, Sammy,” he whined, as Sam added a third finger in and thrust them in and out.

“What? What is it, Dean? Need something else?” Sam asked, delighting in watching Dean fall apart. “Come on, Dean, just say it.”

“I need you, please. P-please fuck me.” Dean could feel his body shiver as Sam finally pulled his fingers out. He felt something hard and big at his entrance and gasped as Sam pushed his dick into him.

“Fuck, Dean,” Sam groaned.

Sex was awesome, as usual, and afterwards, they had tacos that Dean made for dinner. Sam actually allowed Dean to wear a plain white tee shirt and shorts and Dean wondered what the special occasion was.

“You seem like you’re in a good mood tonight,” Dean noted, watching as Sam just smiled. It took Dean’s breath away. Sam’s smile always made him look boyish and young and innocent, like he wasn’t a seasoned hunter.

“Got a promotion,” Sam said, taking a large bite of his taco. He moaned as he chewed and Dean had to raise an eyebrow because Sam almost never looked like he was having sex with his food. That had always been a Dean thing. “God, did I ever tell you how much I love it when you cook?”

“No, not really,” Dean mumbled, picking up another taco. He’d been cooking for them almost his whole life, since they’d been kids and Dean had to learn some life skills because their dad was barely ever around. It’d been hard but Dean was good at picking things up and he excelled in stressful situations. “It can’t be that good,” Dean said as Sam took another huge bite, nearly finishing one of his tacos. It was just tacos after all.

He chewed and swallowed and said, “It’s fucking amazing, Dean. You’re fucking amazing.”

“Uh, thanks,” Dean said, rubbing the back of his neck. He could feel his face heating at the compliment. Dean didn’t get praised all that much and didn’t really know how to respond. Sam had been acting really affectionate since Dean turned into an Omega and while Dean was trying to get used to it, it actually did feel kind of nice to be appreciated for once. He looked to see Sam still smiling at him.

Dean cleared his throat. “So what did you get promoted to?”

Sam leaned back, “You know how I was telling you that I found this pretty cushy corporate job?” Dean thought back to a couple weeks ago. Sam had mentioned something about that. He nodded and Sam continued, “Well, guess who’s a freaking director now?” Holy shit. Dean sat up, mouth gaping. He could feel his lips turning up into the beginning of a smile. 

“Oh fuck, Sammy, that’s great,” Dean said. “My little brother, a fucking boss.”

Sam just chuckled. “Yeah. Something like that.”

They ate the rest of the tacos in comfortable silence. Dean was glad things were going well for Sam, that he could so easily move from hunting and embrace the apple pie life with open arms. But something in the back of his mind still tried to insist there was something off, something that wasn’t right about this. About the story his brother fed him about his turning into an Omega, about dad finding another hunt, about any of this. It just seemed too...perfect. And Dean had to wonder if it was because part of him could never accept actually settling down and being happy or if he was right and there was something more sinister going on under the surface.

The next day, Dean was skimming the papers, looking for work. He decided that maybe the reason everything felt off was because he was sitting in the house with his thumb up his ass, waiting for his brother to come back as was the new norm. He didn’t like it, never liked it. All his life, he grew up on the road, doing something. Whether it was helping Sam with homework, going to classes, hunting with dad, fixing the Impala. It was always something. Dean was rarely ever just sitting because he had all the time in the world after doing basic chores like taking care of the house and cooking dinner. 

There was a garage within walking distance that needed some help. He wrote down the phone number and made the call to set up an interview for the day after. When he hung up the phone, he was a mixture of giddy and anxious. He’d never been this excited for a goddamn civilian job in his life, not even when he went to help Bobby fix some cars for a few days. But sitting in the house all day was starting to drive him up the wall. Of course living the domestic life with his brother was nice, having sex with Sam was awesome, but it was all the waiting. There was only so much of that he could do after he completed the cleaning and crap. He didn’t understand how other Omegas and traditional Betas could do this day in and day out. It was agonizingly boring and Dean was sure he wasn’t meant for that type of life. He liked being Sam’s Omega because he just needed something to occupy his time while Sam was working. He’d been binging on Netflix and was pretty sure he already watched most of the more interesting shows and movies on there at least once.

Now he just had to wait for Sam to come home and he’d be able to tell him the good news.

“Oh fuck,” Sam had to reluctantly break off the kiss. Dean practically pounced on him the minute he came through the door. He grinned at his brother who looked uncharacteristically pleased with himself. “Not that I don’t love seeing you happy, because I do, I really fucking do, but what’s got you all giddy?”

“Maybe I’m just really happy to see you,” Dean purred, pulling Sam into a tight hug. “And I may have found an answer to my boredom.”

“Oh yeah?” Sam panted, peppering Dean with kisses as Dean tilted his head so that he had better access to his neck. “I didn’t know you were even bored,” he said, nibbling on Dean’s claiming mark.

Dean gasped as Sam gently nipped his skin. “Uh, yeah, man. Nothing much to do in the house while you’re gone and I finished my chores.”

“So what’s the answer you found?” Sam asked, biting down harder.

“I found a job,” Dean told him, jerking in Sam’s hold.

“Thought I told you, you didn’t need one,” Sam said, trailing down to his nipple. He lapped at it a couple times, causing Dean to gasp again, before taking it into his mouth. 

“Saaam,” Dean whined. “Please.”

Sam sucked his nipple for a moment before pulling off to look at Dean with hooded eyes. “Bed?”

“Yeah.”

At dinner, Dean launched into what the job was, where it was located and how the phone call went. Sam ate his stew in contemplative silence. Dean sighed, running a hand through his hair. 

“Look, I get you think it’s dangerous for Omegas to be out, but Sam, I wasn’t born one, remember? I’ve been able to take care of myself for a long ass time,” Dean pointed out.

Sam’s spoon clattered into the bowl. Dean flinched at the sound. He saw Sam’s eyes flash with an emotion he rarely ever saw on Sam’s face these days. He looked almost angry. And hurt. Which didn’t make sense. Dean thought Sam would be happy. “I know you _think_ you can take care of yourself,” Sam told him, his tone flat.

Wait. What? Dean stared at his brother, his jaw twitching. Did he fucking just hear that correctly? “Okay, wait, what the hell is that supposed to mean? I _know_ I can take care of myself.”

Sam glared at him. “If you’re so good at taking care of yourself, maybe you wouldn’t have gotten yourself assaulted!”

Dean sucked in a sharp breath. That was a fucking low blow. What the fuck? Dean could feel tears threatening to escape and he got up from the table, the chair he had been sitting on clattering to the floor. He swiped angrily at his face and glared at his brother, feeling a dozen emotions all at once hitting him, and whispered, “Screw. You.”

Then he left the house.

Or tried to. He made it just outside when the collar that usually sat comfortably around his neck to the point that he almost forgot it was even there most days suddenly came to life and his whole body seared with fire. He doubled over in pain, gasping as his body spasmed. What the fuck? What the hell was going on? He could feel the collar heat up, pulsating as more pain wracked his body.

He was dimly aware of the shadow that loomed over him. His brother’s frightened face looked down at him and Dean could hear alarm bells going off in the back of his head. Sam crouched in front of him, cupping his face gently in his hands.

“I’m sorry, Dean. I’m so sorry, I just...I don’t want to lose you. It was bad enough finding you like that, I can’t imagine something like that happening again, or worse. You have to stay inside, okay? It’s for your own safety. I promise,” Sam was saying.

Dean was sure he was saying more stuff but as the pain started to finally subside, Dean felt his own grip on reality start to fade too. He closed his eyes and let himself fall into unconsciousness.


	20. dreaming

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not much to warn about in this chapter. Hope you like the surprise! Enjoy!

Dean woke up to a rush of cool air. He looked down to find himself wearing a tee shirt and sweatpants, sitting on cold, hard cement. Oh god, was he outside? He looked around in confusion. He could make out trees and grass and a playground in the distance with kids running around and playing and laughing. A couple parents sitting on benches nearby, watching as their kids went down slides, climbed the monkey bars, played in the sandbox. 

He looked around frantically for Sam but there was no sign of his brother. Dean gasped, shocked. Where was Sam? Why was he outside and wearing clothes like a normal person? He felt his neck and noticed there was nothing there. He’d been wearing a collar for the past couple months and now it was gone, like it never existed. What the hell was going on?

“Dean Winchester, we need to talk.”

Dean whirled around. A man he’d never seen before stood just a few feet away. He had dark hair and blue eyes, the most brilliant blue eyes he’d ever seen. The man wore a long tan coat over a suit and tie. Dean backed away, unsure what the guy wanted. He really didn’t need to get into a fight, not until he could figure out what was going on.

“I’m not here to hurt you,” the man said in a low, rough voice.

“What do you want and how the fuck do you know my name?” Dean demanded, getting into a fighting stance. “And what’d you do with Sam?” Where was his brother?

“You’re not actually outside,” the man told him. Dean’s confusion only deepened. “You’re dreaming right now so even if you try to hurt me, you can’t.”

“What?” Dean was dreaming? Then it suddenly all came back to him and he remembered the inexplicable pain he felt when he tried to get away from Sam, remembered the fight they had and the hurtful words Sam threw at him to explain how Dean needed to be kept in the house like some pampered pet who couldn’t do a goddamn thing right. Fuck. He stared at the stranger in the trench coat. Was he then a figment of Dean’s overactive imagination?

The man shook his head, like he could read Dean’s mind. “My name is Castiel, Dean. I am an angel,” the stranger told him.

Dean wanted to laugh because everyone knew angels didn’t exist. Every smart hunter at least. He crossed his arms and stared at the guy, Castiel, was it? “Okay, you say you’re an angel,” Dean said slowly.

Castiel nodded, “Yes. That is correct. I am an angel of the lord.”

He was so not buying this. This was just his head messing with him because of all the shit reality threw at him the past couple days. “Look, buddy, I don’t know how stupid you think I am but-”

“I am an angel, Dean,” Castiel repeated firmly. Suddenly a bright light flashed and Dean had to shield his eyes. It dimmed after a moment and Dean opened his eyes to see shadows forming to look like wings around Castiel. Okay, what the hell? “Do you need more proof?”

Dean opened his mouth to say something witty but then Castiel’s eyes glowed and Dean shut up. Okay, weird. “We need to talk, Dean,” he said again, “about your brother, Samuel.”

Well that got Dean’s attention.

Dean rubbed his hand over the side of his face, feeling tired. Even if Castiel wasn’t an angel like he said he was, Dean couldn’t deny that the guy knew things. 

They were sitting on one of the park benches. Dean found himself staring off into the distance. If this happened to just be a dream, it sure was a strange one.

“You wanted to talk, so talk,” Dean said.

Castiel sighed. “You know you were supposed to be my charge. Since you were born, in fact.”

“Yeah? So you’re my guardian angel, huh?” Dean remembered his mom used to tell him angels were watching over him. He looked down at his hands. Guess she was actually right. He thought back to all the times he got hurt on a hunt, all the times Sam got hurt. The time he got turned into an Omega. He clenched his hands before glancing at the angel. “A fine job you did,” he told him, his voice tinged with sarcasm. Couldn’t protect mom, him, Sam, Jess, countless other people that got hurt or died because they got too close to the Winchesters.

There was a beat of silence. Then the angel said, “I’m sorry, Dean.”

Dean didn’t expect the apology. He cleared his throat, “Look, I thought we were here to talk about my brother.” _Not my failures._

Castiel seemed to straighten, and nodded. “Your brother, Samuel-”

“Sam,” Dean corrected.

“Sam,” Castiel repeated, though it came off almost like a curse word, like something foul and Dean could feel his heart hammering in his chest, wondering what the angel’s problem was with his brother. This was Sam -Sammy - who Dean raised since he was a baby. The kid who was too smart for his own good, the kid Dean always felt compelled to protect even as he reached adulthood. The kid who could’ve done good things with his life if it hadn’t been for Dean to drag him back into hunting.

Dean felt anger curling in his stomach, his instincts as the older brother, as Sam’s Omega, to protect him from the angel’s hostility. “You got something against Sammy? Just fucking say it,” he snapped.

The angel blinked, turning to look at him. Dean tensed. “Your brother is not a good person, Dean,” Castiel said at last.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Because the angel had no idea what he was talking about. Not a damn clue. Sam was a good person, better than Dean at least. He and his damn floppy hair and puppy dog eyes and those boyish, innocent grins that lit his whole damn face. God, he was so much better than Dean. He was the damn best. And now this freakish angel was sitting here and telling him the damn opposite? No way. Fucking no way.

“When was the last time you stepped outside?” Castiel asked suddenly, changing subjects.

Dean didn’t understand what that had to do with how his brother wasn’t good. He glared at the angel. “Okay, what? Look, just because I’m an Omega doesn’t mean I was born yesterday. What does that have to do with my brother and how he isn’t a good person, which by the way, you’re fucking dead wrong about! Because he’s the best person I damn well know.” Dean was panting heavily at the end of his rant. He waited for Castiel to respond but all he got was a look of pity and that was not what he fucking wanted.

Castiel just shook his head. “Dean, I’m not trying to mislead you. This question has everything to do with your brother.”

Dean hesitated. The angel looked sincere enough. He thought back to when he’d been outside, like really outside. “I don’t know. Since we bought the house.” When did they buy the house? “Maybe like two or three months ago.” Wow, it really had been a while, hasn’t it?

“So you don’t know what your brother’s been doing,” Castiel said, more to himself than to Dean.

Dean furrowed his brows. That he did know. “He’s working a corporate job.” They were living the apple pie life now. As much as Dean hated it, that was where they were at this point. Dean playing housewife and Sam coming home with the bacon. He grimaced at the thought.

“No, he’s not,” the angel said, shaking his head.

Dean felt frustration building. Dean was pretty sure he’d know more about his brother than this schmuck, angel or no angel. Like what the fuck? “Okay, smart guy, if you know so much about my own goddamn brother, please. Share with the class.”

“Let me show you,” Castiel said. “It’ll be easier.” He didn’t wait for Dean to respond, just started to lean over and placed two fingers gently on his forehead. He had to close his eyes as a bright light emanated from Castiel’s hand.

Could you dream in a dream? It was a weird sensation. Just a small warm tingle that spread from his head to the rest of his body and suddenly, when he opened his eyes the next time, they were somewhere different. It looked a little like New York City. Except there was fire and smoke and lots of unmoving bodies on the ground, in cars. And blood. Lots of blood everywhere. He could hear a few people screaming and running as a group of people marched through the square like they owned the place.

Dean had never seen so much wreckage in one place, unless it was in a movie. He didn’t understand. What the hell was going on? Why did the city look like this? Where did Castiel send him to? He stumbled through debris and wreckage and tried not to breathe in all the fumes but it was hard and his eyes watered as he took in the sight before him. Dead, broken bodies of men, women, children, everyone were scattered around him and he nearly slipped in blood and guts of...someone. 

Dean gagged. The smell alone was enough for him to lose whatever he had the previous night. Was this real? It felt so real, like he was actually here, but he was in a dream so it couldn’t be. Castiel reappeared in front of him, looking at him with that damn pity again.

“What the fuck? What is all of this?” Dean demanded.

“This is New York,” Castiel said. “What’s left of it anyways.”

“This can’t be New York.”

The angel sighed. “It is, Dean. A lot has happened in the past three months.”

“Three months,” Dean repeated slowly. So he’d really been gone that long. He licked his lips, nervously looking around. “What happened?”

“Your brother,” Castiel said. He placed his fingers on Dean’s forehead again and suddenly they were back on the park bench. The angel told Dean all about how Sam opened the gates to hell and unleashed a massive army of demons and how he’d been leading them to destroy major cities the past few months to start with. And sitting beside him had been a prince of hell, a demon with yellow eyes, that went by the name of Azazel. Dean thought maybe he sounded familiar. Castiel informed him he was the same demon who killed his mom and fed demon blood into Sam’s mouth when he was a baby.

It was a lot to take in. Dean didn’t even want to believe it but he couldn’t deny that he hadn’t been outside in a long time so he didn’t know much about what was really going on out there. The vision Castiel showed him, which he claimed was really happening, was so vivid that Dean was having trouble trying to chalk it up to his overactive imagination. But really, his brother, being basically the antichrist? There was no way Castiel actually thought he’d believe that, right? Because Sam was far from evil. Kid wouldn’t hurt a butterfly, let alone destroy the world.

And what would Sam’s end goal be? Why would he come back home to Dean every night? Why even keep Dean alive in the first place?

Dean didn’t understand. None of this made any sense.

“Sorry if I don’t believe you,” Dean said. “But look man, my brother can’t possibly do any of this.”

“No, not normally,” Castiel agreed, almost reluctantly. “But Dean, these are not normal times. Your brother has demon blood in him. That can change a person at their core.”

“But why? Why would this demon...prince choose him? Of all the people in the world, why Sam?” Dean asked, desperately grasping at any straw he could. He refused to think Sam could go darkside, just like that.

The angel looked at Dean. “Because he is Lucifer,” he said.

“What?” Dean gaped. This just kept getting better and better.

“Well, he isn’t actually Lucifer. He’s one of Lucifer’s vessels,” the angel told him.

“Wait. Like, a vessel to possess? Like what demons do?” Dean demanded.

“Yes,” Castiel said. “Except demons just take over a person but angels, like Lucifer, like myself, we need permission first.”

“So you’re in some human right now.”

“Yes, I am. He prayed for this actually.”

“Right,” Dean said dully. “So my brother’s supposed to be Lucifer, huh? That’s what you came here to tell me?” He was living with the devil.

“Partly. He isn’t Lucifer yet. We believe Azazel’s plan was to corrupt your brother enough so that he will eventually say yes to Lucifer when the time came,” Castiel explained. “And that is not something you’d want. That is not something anyone would want. If Sam says yes to Lucifer, he’ll bring the end of the world.”

“Great,” Dean snapped, not understanding why Castiel was even telling him all of this. It wasn’t like he could do anything. If Sam actually did all that to New York, he’d have some incredible powers. Dean was nothing but an Omega, nothing but a pathetic housewife. “Why the fuck are you telling me all this? I can’t do anything.”

Castiel looked at him. “Actually Dean, you’re the only one who can do something.”

Dean felt his throat go dry. “What are you talking about?”

“Sam isn’t at full power yet but he’s still incredibly strong. We’ve been sending out angels and he’s been finding ways to...dispatch them, so to speak.” Angel language for ‘kill’. According to Castiel, Dean’s brother has been killing angels. “We’re trying to find a way to stop Samuel, permanently. We’ve been tracking down everyone he’s ever had a close connection with to see if they know anything. That was when we realized you’ve been gone for the past three months, completely vanished off the face of the earth.”

“That’s impossible,” Dean said. “I’ve just been on house arrest.”

The angel blinked at him. “No, Dean,” he said slowly, “you’re not on earth. You haven’t been on earth for the past three months now.”

“What?” Dean rose to his feet. “Okay, look, I think it’s time for me to wake up now. This has been a really fun acid trip but I need to get back to Sam - the one who isn’t some evil psycho antichrist who’s going to bring about the apocalypse or some shit.”

He squeezed his eyes shut and pinched his arm. “Ow. Fuck!” Opening his eyes, he stared at the angel who was still sitting on the bench. “Seriously. Let me wake up already, brain,” he hissed to himself.

“I’ll let you wake up in a minute,” Castiel told him. “We’re not quite finished, Dean.”

“Crap,” Dean said, sitting back down.

“This is serious. I’m serious,” Castiel said. “We need your help. We think your brother’s weak point is you.”

“How?” Dean asked.

“He did something to you, Dean. I can feel it, even from here. He’s connected you to him somehow.”

“I, I don’t know what you mean,” Dean stammered. “Look, you must have the wrong guy. There’s no way Sam is evil. I know my brother, okay?”

“How can you be so sure?” Castiel asked.

Dean opened his mouth to retort. He wanted to say something like ‘and how can you be so sure?’ or ‘I know my brother’. But he couldn’t make himself say it for some reason. Instead he could feel that nagging feeling in the back of his mind again, telling him maybe the angel was right. He rubbed the back of his neck, bouncing his leg nervously.

Suddenly, Castiel leaned forward so that Dean was staring into deep, blue eyes. The color of a stormy ocean. “There’s something...off with you, with your memories,” the angel said, placing two fingers on his forehead. “This may sting a little.”

Then suddenly bright light flashed before his eyes and he had to squeeze his eyes shut as he felt Castiel dig into his head, sifting through memory after memory. It felt like an eternity before Castiel let him go and leaned back with a gasp.

“Dean...your mind. It’s a mess in there. It’s like stepping on broken glass all over the ground,” Castiel said.

“What?” Dean knew there was a hole in his mind, where memories should’ve been but the angel made it out like it was much more than that. 

“You have to be careful around your brother,” Castiel told him. “I can’t fix your memories from here, but when I get there, I promise you, I will. You have my word.”

“You...know where I am then?” Dean asked.

“No, but I know how I’ll be able to get there,” Castiel said. “You just need to hold out a little longer. We will stop your brother and free you soon.” It was all very cryptic and Dean wondered what the angel even meant by it all. He wondered how the angel would ‘rescue’ Dean if he didn’t know where Dean even was. And if he was connected to Sam...what did that mean? Would he die if his brother died?

“How’d you even get into my dreams if you don’t know where I am?” Dean asked.

“Your brother may be strong, Dean, but he is fighting against heaven. He cannot shield you from an archangel. Namely Michael,” Castiel said.

 _Michael_. Dean wondered if the name should mean something to him. “Right. Okay.” He didn’t know how else to respond to that. All of it. It just seemed all too much to take in. There was no way Sam was evil. Sam couldn’t be. Because if Sam was, what did that make Dean?

“We will come and save you, Dean.” 

It was the last words he heard before he woke up into the warm and familiar arms of his brother.


	21. wrathful

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back to Sam's POV. Sorry guys, I'm really tired today. I didn't sleep very well last night so it's only going to be one chapter tonight. I also have (online) classes coming up on Mondays and Wednesdays so the updates/other fills will be slowing down a bit. I've been trying to finish this story before next week but I don't think that's looking like a possibility. Thanks again for all the kudos and comments. I'll try and write some more later tonight or tomorrow if I can.

Sam had been worried about Dean. He’d been unconscious a lot longer than Sam thought he should be. He wondered if he should take the collar off. He didn’t think Dean would actually try and storm out of the house. He thought Dean had been happy living here with Sam. He’d been slowly messing around with Dean’s memories, pushing the ones that he didn’t want Dean remembering into the far depths of his mind and building a wall around them, so to speak. Then he’d been replacing them, one at a time, with memories that Sam wanted Dean to ‘remember’. But even then, it wasn’t working. Dean was digging. There was like an itch in the back of his mind and he was scratching at it, clawing it bit by bit. Sam could feel it. It was all threatening to break, and that...no, Sam couldn’t have Dean remembering. He’d go back to claiming Sam raped him, which he didn’t do. Sam would never rape Dean. Not in a million years. Why couldn’t his brother realize that? Why did he keep pushing Sam to use his powers on him?

All that he built for the past three months couldn’t just end in one night. Sam wasn’t going to let it. He watched as his brother opened his eyes. Sam took him in his arms, as he tried to sit up. “Shhh, it’s okay, Dean. I’ve got you,” he said, wiping his brother’s sweat drenched face with a wet towel.

“What?” Dean looked at him with glassy eyes. “Lemme up, Sammy.”

Sam shook his head. “You’re still hurt,” he told him.

“So, what? Just, just let me sit up.”

Sam sucked in a breath as Dean struggled in his hold. It was weak but Dean didn’t seem to care. Sam decided to let him sit up. “How are you feeling now?”

Dean stared at him for a moment. Sam shifted slightly, a little uncomfortable under the intense gaze of his brother. “I’m fine,” Dean finally answered. He winced a little as he shifted his position and Sam narrowed his eyes because it was obvious Dean was lying to him. He didn’t understand why he would try to. It wasn’t like he could hide anything from Sam.

Sam reached over to grab Dean’s arm, watched as his brother gritted his teeth. He was definitely not fine. “Why are you lying to me, Dean?” he hissed, his voice like ice. Sam was the good guy here. All he wanted to do was help his brother.

“I’m not,” Dean snapped, “Just get off.” He started to try and pull his arm out of Sam’s grip but he just tightened it in response. “You’re fucking hurting me, Sam.” The look on Dean’s face caused Sam to let go, leaning back.

He sucked in a sharp breath and stared down at the blanket. He was trying to help Dean, not hurt him. “I’m sorry,” he said in a low voice. He wished he had a better handle on his temper but lately it was getting more and more difficult to do so. Didn’t he promise to himself he’d never hurt his brother? What the fuck happened to that? He remembered back to three months ago, when he confined Dean here. He went to meet with Azazel to uphold his end of the deal. The demon told him where the gates of hell was and Sam was the only one who could unlock it. The colt had been the key naturally. It was so ironic that the one weapon John Winchester had been chasing down for the past twenty something odd years would be the key to the destruction of the world.

Sam had stood there at the threshold between earth and hell with some trepidation. It felt surreal, like he’d stepped into the twilight zone. Never, in all his life, did he think he’d be opening the gates of hell to unleash demons that he’d be leading, and all because of one person. His brother. Azazel told him it was destiny. He needed to embrace it because this was his life. His future. He was the boy king. Sam thought he should’ve felt scared, should’ve felt like he was betraying everything his father and brother taught him. He was bringing the end of the world, the apocalypse. He knew how destructive demons could be. After all, the one demon he made a deal with, killed his mom. But in that moment, Sam realized something scarier. He didn’t care what happened to the world. He didn’t care that people would die, buildings would burn. He only cared about one thing. One person. And that was Dean.

As long as Dean was safe, Sam would make the same deal all over again if he was given another chance. He’d make it a million times over. There wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do for his brother. There wasn’t anybody he wouldn’t kill for him. That was probably the scariest truth of all.

Sam jolted in surprise when he felt Dean lay a hand on his shoulder. He looked up, caught his brother’s eyes. “Look, Sam, I’m going to ask you this once, and I want the truth.”

Sam nodded, swallowed. “Sure, Dean. Anything.”

Dean studied him for a moment, like he was trying to find a hint of a lie on Sam’s face. Sam tried to convey sincerity. It seemed like it worked because Dean nodded after a moment and said, “Okay. So, is there anything you want to tell me about my memories? Do you know why I can’t seem to remember stuff, Sam?” It sounded almost like he was accusing Sam of messing with his head. Sam shook the thought away. There was no reason for Dean to be suspicious now. Sam hadn’t given anything away.

He shook his head. “I’m sorry, Dean,” he said with a sigh and a shrug. “I told you I don’t know. But I’m sure you’ll start to remember soon.”

There was a beat of silence, before Dean just said, “Right.” But Sam could tell his brother didn’t really believe him.

They laid on the bed next to each other that night. Dean wouldn’t touch Sam and Sam knew there was something wrong. He wanted to desperately touch his brother, to hug and kiss him and try to convey how sorry he was that he got mad at dinner earlier and he didn’t mean for Dean to get hurt by the collar. But every time he tried to pull Dean toward him so that he could at least feel Dean’s warm body, hear his heartbeat, Dean would pull his arm back, put a little more distance between them as they watched some random movie Sam could care less about on TV.

Frustration mounted and Sam could no longer ignore how Dean was affecting him. “Okay, look, I get you’re mad, but I already told you I’m sorry, Dean. I really have no idea what’s going on with your memories, okay?”

Dean snorted. “Yeah, because that’s all you have to be sorry about. You sure seemed sorry at dinner.”

“I mean it, Dean. I am sorry. Just please believe me,” Sam said, his voice almost pleading. He made a mistake. Why couldn’t Dean just move past this? “Look, if you want a job, fine! You can have a job. Whatever job you want.”

Dean turned the TV off finally, turning to face Sam fully. His face was a mix of disbelief and anger. Emotions Sam hadn’t seen on his brother’s face in over three months. “This isn’t just about the job, Sam. This is about how _easily_ you got mad when all I did was suggest that I get one. Oh and this damn collar,” he pointed to his neck.

Of course. The fucking collar. Sam licked his lips, “What about the collar?” He knew very well what his brother was referring to.

“It did something to me,” Dean said. “Dude, I stepped out of that house and suddenly I’m doubled over with pain burning through me. That is not fucking normal. Why the fuck am I wearing this thing, Sammy? And tell me the goddamn truth.”

“Look, Dean, I can explain-”

“Then explain,” Dean snapped.

Oh fuck. He was in deep trouble now. Sam tried to calm himself down. He could tell Dean the truth now and just wipe his memories again later, couldn’t he? He’d just push it back and rebuild Dean. He wouldn’t suspect a thing. Right? He missed the days when Dean was content with the sex and eating dinner with Sam. He wanted that Dean back, the one who embraced being an Omega without questions. Fuck. He should’ve just said yes to Dean getting a job. He’ll do it right next time.

“Okay. Okay, just don’t snap at me. Please,” Sam begged. 

He could see his brother getting ready to open his mouth. 

“Don’t, Dean,” he said, “don’t interrupt.” 

Dean’s eyes widened as he closed his mouth. It may have been with the help of Sam’s powers that he complied. 

“I, look, the collar’s only designed to...stop you from running from the house, from me,” Sam said. He sighed, hating having to explain it like this to Dean. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the full functions of the collar.” He watched as his brother glared at him. It was all Dean could do because Sam’s powers stopped him from speaking, from moving. Sam didn’t want to use his powers like that on Dean ever again but he didn’t have a choice. He was beginning to wonder if this was just the way things would have to be because Dean would always be Dean - headstrong and stubborn and always found a way to not listen to Sam.

“If I let you talk and move again, you have to promise you won’t freak out and try to hit me or something,” Sam told him. Dean actually rolled his eyes at that. “I’m serious, Dean. Don’t fight me. I don’t want to hurt you…” _But I will, if I have to._

Dean tried to nod. Sam saw him straining against his powers. He released his brother. “Son of a bitch,” Dean cursed, rubbing his jaw.

Sam wanted to kiss Dean better. He leaned forward to cup his face. Dean leaned back. “I’m not going to hurt you,” Sam said, hurt at the movement. Still, he recoiled his hand back.

“How long have you had powers like that, Sammy?” Dean asked quietly.

Sam sighed. He knew Dean would have questions, would probably think he’d been using his powers on him. “I don’t know. Since I was a baby maybe,” he answered as truthfully as he could. _Since Azazel fed me demon blood._

“Huh. That’s what he said too,” Dean murmured, more to himself than Sam, but Sam caught it anyways.

He stared at his brother, wondering what he meant. “Who, Dean? Who said that too?”

Dean froze, finally realizing what he said. Sam didn’t like the look on Dean’s face, that wide eyed stare like ‘oh shit, I didn’t mean to say that’. He scooted closer to Dean, clasped his hands on his shoulders. “Dean, listen, you need to tell me who you were talking to,” Sam said, eyes glowing yellow as he tried to use his powers to get into Dean’s head. Azazel said they couldn’t be bothered here. Not by anyone ordinary or supernatural. Did the demon lie to him?

He delved into Dean’s memories, tried to see if anything was out of place. He came across a door he hadn’t seen before, tried to get in, but something was blocking him. He was suddenly pushed out. Sam gasped as he came back into reality. He couldn’t access something in Dean’s mind. But that wasn’t right because Sam usually had full access to Dean’s mind, it was how he was able to rearrange stuff. And he was getting stronger, wasn’t he? Whoever or whatever Dean had been talking with, it was trying to keep Sam out. This wasn’t good. Was someone planning on taking Dean away from him?

No one took Dean away from Sam.

Suddenly he remembered how long Dean had been knocked out, how it didn’t seem normal for him to be unconscious for that long. Something kept him from waking up. That had to be it. He could feel himself begin to panic. “Dean,” he began, looking his brother in the eyes, “was something, did you see something in your dreams? Was someone trying to communicate with you? Tell me the truth.” His eyes glowed again and Dean shivered as Sam used his powers again.

“Yes,” he said, the word was spat out like he was trying to resist answering but Sam’s powers were much stronger than his will. “It was an...angel.”

An angel. Fuck. Not another one of them. Didn’t they ever learn? Sam was stronger than them. And he was going to keep getting stronger. He was sure that if he kept drinking demon blood, he’d be more powerful than Lucifer. And he wasn’t planning on stopping any time soon. He was going to keep getting stronger and he was going to slaughter all of the angels, and then he was going to go after the demons. Azazel may think he was keeping Sam under control, but Sam knew what Yellow Eye’s endgame was. He wanted Sam to let Lucifer in, to let the angel ride him like a prom dress. Well, Sam liked being in control of his own body too much. He figured he was going to keep getting stronger, stronger than Azazel and turn on him and he’d go back to Dean. Lucifer would continue to rot in the cage and Sam would eventually have Dean all to himself, here in their own pocket dimension for all eternity.

But now the angels were after Dean. He had to stop them from trying to take Dean from him as well. “What’s the angel’s name, Dean?” Sam asked.

Still under the influence of his powers, Dean had no choice but to say, “Cas...tiel. He said his name’s Castiel.”

Castiel.

Sam leaned forward, touching his forehead to Dean’s. “Thank you,” he said, kissing Dean softly on the lips, before leaning back and letting go. He climbed off the bed and rose to his feet. “I’ll be back soon,” he promised a bewildered Dean. He snapped his fingers and was back on earth.

He needed to find that angel.

Sam was the embodiment of wrath. 

Every fibre of his being was shouting at him to protect Dean and destroy anything that got in the way. How fucking dare an angel try and take Dean from him. Dean was Sam’s. He had always been Sam’s. 

Sam stabbed another angel with the blade he’d gotten off one of the angel soldiers they kept sending. He watched as the angel’s grace flashed through his eyes, his mouth hanging open in surprise. He let the body hit the ground and kicked it to the side. He was a man on a mission. Every angel he interrogated about this ‘Castiel’ kept their mouths shut. It irked him that someone could hold such loyalty. He stomped past building after building, searching for another angel. His powers were getting stronger. Three months ago, he could barely tell a demon from a human. Now he could see hints, traces of angel wings and flashes of grace. It made it easier to tell who the enemy was.

Sam’s eyes flashed gold as he scanned the area. Just piles of dead bodies and burned down buildings. Cars were piled up in accidents that happened weeks ago. This used to be Wyoming. He was near the gates of hell. The town of Jasper. He knew Azazel liked to hang around here on his off days. He was a nostalgic kind of demon, or so he claimed.

“Hiya, Sammy, or, well, would you like me to call you ‘Boy King’?” Azazel asked as he stepped out of one of the burnt down buildings. He was followed by one of his hellhounds. They were invisible to normal human eyes but since Sam had come to embrace his powers, he was able to see them since week one. It shocked him at first but he no longer flinched at the sight of them. 

“Call me whatever you want,” Sam said. He didn’t care one way or the other. “I actually came to ask for your help.”

“Oh?” Azazel frowned. “This doesn’t concern your brother, does it?”

“Dean?” In a way it did. “Well, it does. But not directly. I actually need help looking for someone. Or _something_.”

He could see the way Azazel straightened up that he was very much interested. “What exactly are you looking for?”

“An angel,” Sam told him.

“An angel?” The demon stared at him. “Why?”

“He goes by the name of Castiel. I want to _kill_ him,” Sam said.

He waited for the demon to respond but Azazel didn’t. Sam stepped forward, eyes flashing gold. “Are you going to help me or not, Azazel?”

“What about the original plan, Sammy?” Azazel asked.

“What about it?” Sam snapped.

“I’ve given you the world, champ. Who cares about some stupid nobody angel? We can destroy this world and create paradise on earth without those winged rats trying to ruin things,” Azazel spat out.

Sam knew the demon was lying. Azazel had been trying to string Sam along from the start. He wanted Sam to give in completely and raise Lucifer from his cage. Fuck that though. He was not going to raise some deranged angel and let him wear Sam to the prom. He was not going to lose Dean, not like that. His eyes flashed gold again. Strong gusts of wind blew through them. Azazel stood his ground, though he looked a little surprised, like he wasn’t sure what Sam was trying to do.

“I don’t care about creating paradise!” Sam yelled, finally having enough. “And I know you don’t care about that either. I know about your little plan, Azazel. About trying to raise Lucifer and use me as his meat puppet?”

Azazel froze. “What?”

“Yeah. I fucking knew about your master plan since the first month. And let me tell you right now, I’m not going to let Lucifer ride me,” Sam snapped. “I’m going to fucking kill this Castiel because he threatened to take Dean from me.” Another strong gust of wind blew through, toppling over a car. The demon didn’t flinch, though he took a step back. “So if you don’t help me, get the fuck out of my way or you’ll wish you never fed me demon blood in the first place.” Sam took another menacing step forward, gathering all of his powers to try to kill the demon. Azazel had the common sense to snap his fingers and vanish elsewhere. Damn. Guess he’ll have to deal with the demon another time.

Right now Sam was on a warpath.


	22. castiel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! I'm back. I'm sorry it took me a while to get this chapter up. I had a huge writer's block that hit me out of nowhere, along with class starting. I did promise that I'd finish the story and I will. I hope everyone's doing well during this pandemic. The updates may be slower than it used to be. Anyways thank you again for all of the kudos and comments. It's greatly appreciated. The only warning for this chapter I can give is a POV shift, but it should be easy to spot. I've also come to find that I have two endings in mind now. One has a possibility of a continuation in a sequel in the future, and the other is more final.

Castiel watched from heaven as Sam Winchester continued to slaughter his brothers and sisters. He felt his fingers twitch to the angel blade sheathed at his side, wanting nothing more than to come down there in a wrathful storm to smite Sam where he stood. But he couldn’t. He was given orders and Castiel had to abide by them. He heard the sounds of feathers fluttering in the air and suddenly Michael appeared next to him, looking down on earth as well.

“Hello, Michael,” Castiel greeted as the archangel clasped a hand on his shoulder.

“It’s almost time, Castiel,” Michael told him. 

Castiel took in a sharp breath as he watched Sam march through the ruined city of Wyoming. Sam looked up, and Castiel almost felt like he was staring directly up at him. But Sam didn’t have the ability to see into heaven, not when Michael and the other archangels were here to shield it from Sam’s ever growing powers. Castiel wasn’t sure how long that would last but Michael was peering down curiously, his stance more relaxed. And then Sam was looking back down, clenching his hand tightly on the angel blade before disappearing from sight.

“You have it then?” Castiel asked in a low whisper, suddenly afraid of being heard.

Michael nodded, before stretching his hand out and a moment later, they were watching Sam kill more angels in the state of Ohio. Sam’s powers were like a raging storm. Wind swirled around him, making it hard to see, but Castiel was an angel and he was able to catch his movements. “We're counting on you, Castiel,” Michael said after a moment. He finally turned to look Castiel in the eyes. “Don’t let us down, brother. Sam Winchester must be stopped.”

“Of course,” Castiel said.

Michael shook his head and stared at the angel. “At all cost.” The hand on his shoulder gripped him harder. “Even if we have to sacrifice my vessel, then so be it. Sam Winchester is too dangerous to be left alive. Promise me that you’ll do whatever it takes to defeat Samuel.” 

Castiel frowned. He waited a moment for Michael to let go of him, but the archangel did not. Finally Castiel nodded. “Yes. Of course.”

“Okay,” Michael said. He let go and stepped back. Castiel got ready to jump down to earth. “Castiel.” He looked back at Michael questioningly. “Be careful, brother.”

“I will.” Castiel then closed his eyes. The world shifted around him and suddenly he was in Ohio. He opened his eyes to see Sam Winchester standing in front of him, fury burning in his eyes and a soul so tarnished and black that Castiel nearly jerked back in surprise.

-

“Are you the angel, Castiel?” Sam asked casually.

It was obvious that it was an angel. Sam could catch a glimpse of its grace even under the human vessel it wore. The angel nodded, brandishing one of its own angel blades. Sam took a more defensive stance. The angel’s grace was much more massive than the other angels that Sam had killed in the past week. He was going to have to play this much more cautiously if he was to protect his brother. This was the angel that dared to communicate with Dean in his dream, when he was knocked unconscious, when he’d been vulnerable and could be easily manipulated. How fucking dare this thing try and talk with Dean, try and mess with his head even more. He could feel rage filling his veins like poison, and suddenly the wind that swirled around him like a tornado, seemed to increase in intensity to match his feelings.

“Then you must know that coming here was a mistake,” Sam said, eyes narrowing, as the angel stood his ground. His trench-coat fluttered in the wind but otherwise he remained unaffected.

“You have to stop this, Samuel,” the angel told him. “You have to know that what you’re doing isn’t right. You’re going to destroy half this planet.”

Was this freak really trying to lecture Sam? Like he was a kid throwing a fucking tantrum. Sam wanted to laugh. “You really think I care?” Sam asked him. Sam was past caring. He _couldn’t_ care. “You’re going to die, Castiel. And everyone’s going to learn not to try and take what’s _mine_.” Because Dean was the one that mattered, the _only_ one that mattered. Sam wasn’t sure when he came to that conclusion.

Just now? A week ago? Months ago? Before he started doing all this? When he first admitted he loved Dean? Before even that? He also realized at this point he didn’t very much care. The world was burning. Sam was the one setting it on fire. And he didn’t care. Because as long as Dean was in it, Sam would do anything to have Dean by his side. He’d make the deal with Azazel again and again. Hell. He’d even make a deal with Lucifer if it meant that he’d be with Dean. 

Yeah maybe it was messed up thinking the way he did, but he couldn’t help it. It was like it was ingrained in him. It used to scare Sam how far he was willing to go for his brother. But these days, there wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do, anything he wouldn’t destroy to keep his precious big brother. The sooner everyone learned that, the better.

“Dean is not yours, Samuel,” Castiel said. That made Sam angrier. The angel was staring at him, like he dared him to do something. “He’s the Righteous Man. He belongs to heaven.”

 _No_. “No,” Sam said out loud. The wind raged harder, making nearby cars tremble. Some stupid human who’d been looking on with a mix of horror and fascination was gripping onto a light pole on the sidewalk. “He’s mine, not yours,” Sam hissed. Dark clouds drifted in and lightning crashed on the streets. It hit the top of a car, causing the driver to swerve into oncoming traffic. Sam could hear screaming from around them, people panicking and running around like chickens with their heads cut off. The angel, however, did not move. 

Sam could hear his heart thumping. Castiel didn’t look the least bit phased, not like the other angels who at least looked surprised in their last moments. Sam stomped over to the angel. He stretched his hand out to the angel and watched as Castiel flew into a nearby car. He crashed into the windshield, the glass shattering on impact, the driver screaming in surprise as he tried to swerve around a passing car. Castiel grunted in pain as the car screeched to a stop. Sam flicked his hand to the side and sent the angel crashing into the side of a building. 

He walked to the angel. Castiel looked up at him, blue eyes glaring at him in defiance. “Kill me, Samuel, and you’ll have all of heaven waging war against you,” he told him.

That got Sam to pause a moment. He knelt in front of the angel, “You think I can’t take them on? I’m getting stronger with every passing day.” He could see the fire still in Castiel’s eyes as he tipped his chin up. “I’ve killed dozens of your brothers and sisters in just this week alone.”

“But you don’t know the power of an archangel,” Castiel told him. There was blood between his teeth. “You can’t win, Samuel. It’s only a matter of time before heaven finds Dean Winchester and saves him.” Then he spat on Sam’s face.

Sam glared down at him, wiping the blood off his cheek. Fucking hell. He grabbed hold of Castiel’s head and knocked it against the wall half a dozen times before the angel fell limp against him. The angel was right. Sam probably couldn’t take on an archangel right now. Sam wasn’t going to get cocky now and chance losing his brother, not with how much he worked to finally get Dean where he wanted him. 

Plan B then. He teleported the two of them out and into the dimension Azazel was able to make for them. He shackled Castiel to the wall of the basement. He didn’t have angel warding on the chains but he’d learn a lot of equally dark and powerful magic from spending some time with Azazel and hell’s torturer, Alastair. Sam was ashamed to admit that the manacles had been for Dean, just as a precaution. In case he ever figured out some semblance of the truth for whatever reason and he tried to hurt himself or something. Sam had never been quite worried about Dean harming him. Sam was able to take a lot of punishment. It was hurting himself that Sam was worried about. Sometimes, Dean got into one of those moods and even Sam couldn’t get him out of it. Not that Dean could die these days. Sam made sure of it. But he could still try and hurt himself and Sam couldn’t have that.

Once Sam was sure the angel couldn’t get out, he walked up the stairs and opened the door. He made sure to lock the door and hide it from view before going to find Dean. Dean was sitting at the table in the room next to the kitchen. He looked up, somewhat startled to see Sam drenched in blood. Sam looked down at himself and snapped his fingers. The plaid shirt and jeans he was wearing was clean again and Dean couldn’t seem to take his eyes off him. Sam smiled, taking a seat across from him.

He could see Dean trembling slightly, his hands clasped in his lap, hidden from Sam’s view. “Hi, Dean,” Sam said, picking up a fork and knife and cutting into the steak like normal. Because this was normal. It was as normal as anything could get now, right?

Dean looked down at his own plate. “Hey, Sammy,” he mumbled.

Sam took a bite, relishing in the warmth of a homemade meal. It was good, juicy, the way Sam liked it. He moaned around the bite. It was just Sam and Dean now, eating dinner. He imagined when they were kids and Dean would come back from the kitchen with two bowls of mac and cheese because that was all that was left after being stuck in a dingy motel for nearly a week as John Winchester went to hunt down some supernatural evil. He swallowed and looked back up to see Dean hadn’t moved. He set his fork down and frowned.

“What’s wrong? Not hungry?” Sam asked, peering at his brother with concern.

He’d been lost in his own thoughts, trying desperately to pretend he hadn’t just caught an angel and was keeping it in the basement now. He hadn’t noticed the way Dean’s body was shaking now. Dean looked up at him finally, bright green eyes staring at him coldly. A brief flash of desperation and anger shone through his eyes before disappearing. Before Sam could process what was happening, Dean was lunging himself across the table with a large kitchen knife, going for Sam’s chest.

Sam caught the knife just in time though, and Dean’s body started to seize up as Sam sent a tendril of power to sedate him. He stood up from the chair, looking down at his brother’s frozen body. What the hell was Dean thinking? He could see Dean trying to fight it, but Sam knew the moment he won. 

“Dean, c’mon, man,” Sam said, feeling almost sorry. He walked over cautiously, reaching out to stroke Dean’s hair gently. He bent over to peer curiously at his brother. He sighed. “What the hell is going on with you, Dean? Did you honestly try to kill me?” After Sam tried to protect Dean, was this really all the thanks he was going to get? Was Dean really so ungrateful?

Dean didn’t say anything. Sam gripped his brother’s hair and pulled him up just enough so that Dean could meet his eyes. “I’m sorry, Dean.”

“For...what?” Dean asked slowly, like it was hard to talk. It probably was.

Sam leaned over to whisper in his ear, “For what I’m about to do.”


	23. belt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! Another chapter! Warnings: belting, nudity, manipulative Sam, everything here is done against Dean's will. Seriously guys, Sam is NOT good in this story. And thank you once again for all the kudos and comments! I hope everyone's still staying safe during this time.

Sam stared down at his sulking brother who was secured to the bed, face down. He twisted around to glare at Sam and tugged at rope, but Sam made sure to tie them tightly and there was no give. Still, Dean struggled uselessly at the bonds and Sam had to sigh, because Dean had to know it was pointless. He walked around to sit on the edge of the bed next to him. He felt Dean stop, his body stiffening up.

“Let me up,” Dean grunted. He still had a tee shirt but Sam stripped him of his jeans earlier. Though Dean was still sporting boxers, Sam could see the slight tremble of his body and knew Dean was probably cold. He dialed down the temperature in the room and Dean was feeling it. 

“No,” Sam said, getting up again. He grabbed the discarded belt and folded it in half. He could feel Dean eyeing him as he moved slowly around the bed. He tensed slightly, knowing his brother was going to start pleading for him to not punish him. Sam debated on gagging Dean. He liked Dean’s voice but it could be distracting, and right now, Sam really didn’t need to be distracted. He could feel the smoothness of the belt in his hands.

“Sam, just let me go, man. We can forget any of this ever happened,” Dean said quietly, jerking Sam out of his thoughts.

Dean couldn’t see him right now, even if he tried to turn his head. It probably unnerved him, not being able to see where Sam was, standing at the foot of the bed, directly behind him. Sam didn’t say anything. He just grabbed one of Dean’s socks from the floor, and climbed onto the bed, the mattress dipping a little under his sudden weight. He could see the moment Dean’s body stiffened, muscles tensing.

“Sam?” Dean’s voice wavered, a little uncertain.

Still, Sam didn’t answer. He continued to crawl over to his brother until he was a looming weight and he was dipping his head down over Dean’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, Dean,” Sam said again, and Dean opened his mouth to say something but Sam’s reflex was lightning quick and he grabbed Dean’s jaw, holding his mouth open and stuffed the sock into his mouth. He found a roll of tape on the night-stand next to the bed and quickly taped his mouth shut. He didn’t need Dean talking, trying to apologize or plead his way out of his punishment. He didn’t need Dean trying to make him out to be a monster. 

Sam already knew what he was.

“You tried to kill me, Dean. Don’t forget that,” Sam said before getting off him. He looked down at the belt in his hand. “I know I said I wasn’t going to hurt you, but I can’t let that go. You gotta learn the rules sooner or later, or face the consequences.” Sam found himself running a gentle hand over his brother’s bare thighs. Dean shuddered slightly and Sam couldn’t help a small smile at the response. He reached over to play at the waistband of Dean’s boxers, his fingers caressing soft skin underneath the thin fabric. For a moment, Dean went still again, as Sam’s fingers made their way slowly to the crack of his ass.

Then it was like a switch turned on and suddenly Dean was struggling again, trying to get away from Sam’s gentle touches. Sam paused, his hand resting firmly just over Dean’s hole. “Dean,” he began, annoyance seeping in as his brother ignored him, struggling even harder. “Dean, _stop_.” Dean stilled, though Sam could see his fingers twitching, as he fought against his Omega instincts to obey Sam’s voice. He hadn’t had to use his Alpha status like that against his brother since before they came to live here.

“Relax, man. I’m not gonna fuck you,” Sam said, though he couldn’t help but feel a little hurt when he felt his brother seem to relax a little more at that. Dean liked having sex with Sam. They’d been having sex for months now and half of the time, Dean was the one initiating it. “At least not yet,” he added, and he pretended not to feel Dean tense up again. He curled his fingers around the boxers and slowly pulled them down to his brother’s ankles. “First, you’re going to take your punishment, and if you’re good, we might be able to have sex after.”

There was a muffled protest, and Sam pretended Dean didn’t try to talk. “See, I’ve got this belt here, Dean, and you’ve got to learn that trying to kill me is going against one of the rules.” He dangled the belt in front of Dean’s face, watched as his brother’s eyes went wide at the sight. He could feel Dean struggling again, and Sam tried not to get mad or annoyed. Dean always had to learn things the hard way, even when they’d just been hunters. “Dean, stop that,” Sam told him, clamping a firm hand on his shoulder.

Dean stopped. He looked away from Sam, like it was going to do anything besides annoy Sam further. “You’re acting like a child, you know. I was only going to go up to twenty, but if you’re going to fight me every step of the way, I can make it forty.” That got Dean to still again. He turned back around and Sam could see his brother glaring up at him. “Don’t look at me like that. I don’t like hurting you, Dean. You know this,” Sam mumbled, looking away this time. He leaned back up. His free hand lingered on Dean’s bare ass. It felt soft and smooth and unmarred. 

Sam took a deep breath, knowing he had to do this. He lifted the belt high above his head and looked at Dean. “You brought this upon yourself, you know. Maybe you’ll think twice next time.” He didn’t wait for Dean to tense up in anticipation before he brought it back down with a loud, hard _thwack_.

Dean bucked under the hit, a muffled gasp under the tape, struggling against the rope that bound him to the bed. At the mercy of his brother. Sam hit him again, and again. He was counting in his head, because it was taking most of his energy to dish out Dean’s punishment. He didn’t realize how exhausting it could be. The first time he’d done something like this to Dean had been with his bare hands in some god awful motel in the middle of nowhere, _months_ ago. It felt like a lifetime ago if he was being honest. That had been hard too. He thought it’d get easier, and maybe it had. Just a little. But he still hated seeing Dean twisting in pain. He hated hearing Dean’s hitched breath and sniffling as they neared twenty.

Dean’s pain was Sam’s. They were intertwined, bound, soul to soul. And when Sam finally reached the designated number, he dropped the belt like it burned him. He was torn between wanting to comfort his brother or shake him firmly and tell him, ‘See, Dean? I didn’t want to do this but you left me no choice. It hurt me just as much as it hurt you.’ Sam hesitated, staring at the damage he dealt. It will probably hurt Dean to sit down for a little while. He’d strapped Dean on his ass and his thighs. Though he didn’t hit his brother hard enough to bleed, there were still ugly bruises blossoming in a few places. Dean’s body was trembling and without thinking, Sam went to lay next to him, running a hand gently through Dean’s hair. Dean flinched at the contact, and Sam paused.

He dropped his hand and sighed, “I’m sorry, Dean.” He glanced back over to see Dean looking at him wearily, leaning as far away from Sam as the rope would allow, which wasn’t all that much. Sam reached over and ripped the tape out of his brother’s mouth. He watched as Dean spat out of the sock a moment later. He could tell by the way Dean was working his jaw, his mouth probably ached. 

“You’re sorry, huh?” Dean asked finally, looking away from Sam. He tugged at the ropes again. “You don’t seem all that sorry to me.” He looked back at him. Sam had never seen his brother look this angry at him before. He opened his mouth to defend himself but Dean was shaking his head. “Dude, you just beat me with a fucking belt. You’ve got me tied up _against_ my will.”

Seriously? Annoyance started to build up inside him. Sam could feel his face heating up. “Yeah, after you tried to kill me, Dean. With a _knife_. I think we’re even now.”

“Even?” Dean snorted. His green eyes were shimmering with anger. “I may not have all my memories - there’s still huge gaps missing - but you’ve got me locked up here, that’s not on earth by the way, against my will, Sam.”

Sam froze for a second. He watched as his brother stared back at him, his eyes calculating, like he was trying to figure Sam out. Sam tried to make himself relax, before rolling his eyes. “Of course we’re on earth, Dean. Why the fuck would you think that?”

Dean’s eyes narrowed. “I might be an Omega now - which, by the way, I’m pretty sure didn’t happen at a bar...but I’m not a moron.” Sam rolled off the bed, getting up to his feet. He was not having this conversation right now. “Come on, Sam,” Dean projected his voice louder when Sam didn’t say anything. “We’re not on earth. We haven’t been for a while now. That’s why you went ballistic when I wanted to get a job. You didn’t want me figuring it out.”

“Shut up, Dean,” Sam finally said. He turned back to look at his brother. Dean opened his mouth and looked like he was trying to say something but nothing came out. Sam sighed and sat back on the bed. He tried not to use his powers too much on Dean, but in this instance, it was a welcome relief. “That’s better. You talk too much sometimes,” he murmured. He was getting tired of Dean’s attitude. Why did he have to be so difficult sometimes? Why couldn’t Dean just let things be? Let them be happy for once? He reached out to stroke his brother’s leg, hardly even noticed the flinch it got in response.

Sam was too tired for this. He just wanted Dean to be happy with him. “We can talk about that shit later, Dean,” he said, as he reached back to take off his pants. “In the meantime, I’m gonna make you feel good and forget about all of this.” For a little while at least. 

He took off his boxers, letting his dick spring out. The cool air in the room felt good against his bare skin and he climbed back on the bed, nestling between his brother’s spread legs. Sam reached a hand to rest just above the crack of Dean’s ass. He could feel his brother trembling and Sam tried to sooth him, rubbing his hand in gentle circles, being mindful of the bruises. “Shh, Dean, it’s going to be okay. I’m just going to make you feel good. I promised you we’d have sex if you were good during your punishment, and you were, remember?” Sam paused, before dipping a finger into Dean’s hole.

It was a tight fit at first but soon enough Sam was able to pump his finger in and out with ease as Dean’s biology worked its magic and produced slick. The quaking in Dean’s thighs seemed to lessen slightly, and Sam found himself whispering, “There’s a good boy. You’re doing so well now, Dean.” He was going to make this good for Dean just like he promised. God only knew Dean deserved it. They both did.


	24. beautiful captivity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for all the kudos and comments! I know I say this in almost all the chapters now, but I really mean it, guys. I know I've been leaving you guys hanging for about a month just to get these chapters up and I'm so glad you're still hanging on with me. I really appreciate it! Every comment has been amazing to read and I know Sam's been super crazy in this, but I promise it'll get better for Dean. As 'better' as I can make it for him, given the story-line. I don't hate either characters, despite the story I've written. In fact, they're my favorite characters. I just really like torturing Dean (and giving him comfort!). Anyways, yeah, just wanted to say thank you for all the awesome support. Stay healthy and safe. 
> 
> Some warnings for this chapter: Creepy Sam but that's a given now, and a POV shift but again, that's easily noticeable as well.

Sam was lying stretched out next to Dean. Sex with Dean was always good. Especially as of late, where Dean moaned and writhed under him, lost in the throes of passion and heat. His new Omega instinct had him baring his throat so that Sam could nibble and kiss and suck at hot, bare skin and he couldn’t help but relish the power he had over his now submissive brother. The rush of power coursing through him like a drug. It was like Sam couldn’t get enough these days. 

He rolled over to face Dean, who was blinking sleepily back at him, looking like any minute now, he was going to lose the war to stay conscious. Dean was pretty with his hair slightly mussed, his lips swollen and pink, freckles sprinkling his face like mini golden suns. Sam dipped his head forward to trail light kisses down his neck, the part that wasn’t covered by the collar. God. He wished they could stay in bed like this forever and pretend it was just a lazy Sunday afternoon. Pretend everything was normal.

He closed his eyes for a moment, breathing in the scent of his brother, basking in this small moment where they could just be Sam and Dean.

“You know none of this is real,” Dean said quietly, though Sam heard every word with relative ease. Sam’s eyes snapped open and he leaned back to see his brother turning away from him. His movements were sluggish, lethargic, as any sated Omega would be. And though his voice was barely above a whisper, the words cut through the air like a knife. “You and me,” he insisted, looking back at Sam when he didn’t respond. “Whatever you think we have together...it’s _not_ real.”

Sam felt his heart pounding faster with each word. How the fuck could Dean say that to him? He found himself fisting the blanket, but Dean remained oblivious. He was staring at him, his expression suddenly unreadable and unblinking. “It’s not too late, Sam. You can just let me go and we can just fucking forget about this...this crap, put it all behind us. We can, uh,” he licked his lips, not realizing just how fucking gorgeous and irresistible he looked when he did that, “you know, figure all this out together. We can fix you.” He looked back to Sam and all Sam wanted was for him to shut the fuck up because he was ruining it again. Everything. Stupid, stubborn, selfless Dean, always thinking he could rescue Sammy from whatever shit he got himself into, except this time he couldn’t. Because there was nothing wrong with Sam, at least nothing that was so easily fixable.

Sam was only half listening now. He was watching Dean's mouth, suddenly fixated on how swollen and plump and so damn kissable his lips looked. Fuck. Dean claimed what they had wasn’t real but that wasn’t true. If what they had was just an illusion, why was it so hard for Sam to stay away from him? Why did Dean tease him all those weeks ago? Why did he moan and ask Sam for more in the heat of sex? There must have been some part, even if it was a little part, of Dean that wanted all of this, that wanted Sam in the way Sam had always wanted Dean.

Dean just didn’t know what he was talking about. He didn’t have a fucking clue what he wanted. It was fucking obvious to anyone except for Dean.

“...look, Sam, dad had this friend. A Bobby Singer,” Dean was saying when Sam tuned back in. He had leaned up on his side as much as the chain around his collar would let him. He was looking at Sam expectantly. 

The name was vaguely familiar. Probably some poor hunter John left them with when they were kids. He nodded. “Yeah. Name sort of rings a bell. Why?” Where was Dean going with this? Hesitantly, he reached a hand out to touch Dean’s forehead.

Dean flinched back from him and he dropped his hand almost immediately. He’d look into Dean’s mind later, maybe when he was asleep.

Dean sighed, composing himself when he realized Sam wasn’t going to touch him again. “Look, there’s no easy way to say this so I’m just going to say it, and you can dish out whatever punishment you deem is necessary. I mean, it’s obvious who’s got all the power here,” he added hurriedly when Sam opened his mouth to protest. He reached up to grab the chain that connected the collar he wore to the bed and Sam shut his mouth and turned away. It was for Dean’s own good of course, but he was right. 

Obviously Sam wasn’t going to hurt Dean just for the sake of hurting him, but Dean wasn’t in a position to stop him. Sam had the upper hand, and yet, Dean was willing to bare his soul out. So the least Sam could do was listen, even if he knew Dean’s concern was unwarranted. “I’m not going to punish you for speaking your mind,” Sam said, though part of him wondered if that even was true anymore. It really depended, right? 

He watched as one of Dean’s eyebrows arch, like he wasn’t sure if Sam was lying either, but he didn’t comment on it. Instead, he said, “Well, okay. Anyways, this Bobby Singer guy is supposed to be a really good hunter. He’s really knowledgeable, got a collection of books on all things supernatural.” 

Sam snorted. He was getting an idea of where this was headed and put a hand up to stop Dean. Dean stopped, looking at him anxiously now. Probably waiting for the other shoe to drop, for Sam to get mad at him again. But Sam was just tired, and he didn’t want to listen anymore. “Dean, I’m fine,” he insisted. Deep down, part of him knew he was lying. But Winchesters were stubborn and Sam pushed down that annoying little voice that liked to pop up once in a while and taunt him about how fucking far he’s fallen and how he was beyond any form of help.

Dean looked ready to argue but Sam was not having this conversation. Not now, not after the wonderful sex they had. “No, Dean. Just shut the fuck up and go to sleep. You're exhausted anyways,” he said firmly, seeping in the order into his voice. He watched as Dean blinked back the sudden heaviness that overcame his whole body. He yawned after a moment, his head settling back on the pillow, his elbows suddenly unable to support his weight.

Sam watched his brother give into sleep, before settling in next to him, pulling Dean closer, tucking his head into his chest and wrapping his arms around his brother’s waist protectively. He closed his eyes for a moment, thinking that this was how it was always supposed to end up.

Sam woke up an hour later, feeling only a little better. Dean was still asleep, his face relaxed and content, something Sam was sure he hadn’t seen his brother look in a long time. It was always when Dean slept, that he was able to let his guard down. Or enough of his guard down that he looked almost like a different person. Hunting and being an Alpha had slowly sucked the life out of him. Sam touched Dean’s face, feeling the smoothness of his brother’s skin under his fingers. Dean was beautiful like this, laid out and waiting for Sam like some sinful invitation. He wanted to kiss Dean awake, decorate his body in light bites, have him moan and whine under him like the pretty, obedient Omega he was. Sam’s fingers had trailed down Dean’s neck, feeling the coolness of his bare skin.

He ran his fingers gently down further over his collarbone to his chest, before lightly touching his right nipple. He watched Dean shudder in response but he didn’t wake up. Sam paused, torn between teasing his brother and letting him sleep. He could feel his own dick twitching as he imagined Dean whining and mewling under him. He shivered at the image and decided, no matter how desperate he wanted to fuck Dean again, his brother’s well-being was going to come before Sam’s own pleasure. 

It took a lot of effort for Sam to restrain himself, but he eventually found himself in the bathroom, desperately jacking himself to an image of a wanton Dean submitting fully to him. He gritted his teeth, as his hand pumped his dick in hard, jerky movements.

It took a few hours for Dean to wake up. Sam was sitting next to him on the bed again, reading a book, one that he hadn’t finished in his days at Stanford. Most of his stuff had burned with Jessica but it hadn’t been hard to find replacements for them. He looked up at the sound of the clinking of Dean’s chain and watched as Dean stretched out. The sound seemed to surprise him and Dean froze, blinking his eyes open. He looked confused for a moment as he stared up at the ceiling but Sam saw the moment his brother was able to put together the situation and Dean turned carefully to look up at Sam.

Sam put the book down and smiled. “Sleep well?”

Dean groaned, closing his eyes briefly. He covered his face with his right arm. “So this isn’t some god awful dream, is it?”

“‘Fraid not,” Sam said, tensing up. “It’s all real, Dean.” He leaned over and pinched Dean’s arm. “See?”

“Ow! What the fuck?” Dean uncovered his face, gripping his arm protectively with his other hand. He glared at Sam.

Sam just shrugged. He wanted to lighten the mood but Dean obviously didn’t find it funny. “Sorry,” Sam mumbled. He wasn’t sorry of course.

“Yeah, whatever,” Dean grumbled, trying to scoot further away from Sam.

Sam hated how Dean kept acting like he was going to eat him or something. Ever since Dean had that stupid conversation with the angel, everything had been slowly falling apart. Why couldn’t everyone just fucking leave them alone? 

“You know you don’t have to be afraid of me, Dean,” Sam said.

Dean froze, his face heating up, like he’d been caught red handed with his hand in the cookie jar. He opened his mouth, then closed it. 

Sam just looked at him, trying to keep the hurt from showing. “I’m not going to hurt you.” _Not unless you deserve it. Not unless you push me to it. Just don’t push me. Don’t tempt me. Please._ He bit the bottom of his lips.

Finally after a long moment, Dean said, “I know that. I’m not afraid.” Despite the words that blurted from his lips, they both knew it was a lie. His voice wavered slightly and there had been too long a pause and Dean couldn’t even meet him in the eyes for a minute, instead he was looking down at the bedspread like it was the most interesting thing in the room.

“Look at me, Dean,” he said quietly. 

Dean didn’t lift his eyes up.

“ _Look_ at me,” he repeated more firmly.

Dean still refused.

Annoyance was building up now. Was this little act of defiance really worth it to his brother? Was this the hill he was going to choose to die on? “Fucking look at me,” Sam growled, letting a little bit of Alpha and a little bit of his powers seep into the command.

Dean stilled. For a long moment, Sam just waited, wondering how Dean was still going to defy the very nature of his biology. Dean’s head slowly lifted, the movement somewhat jerky, like he was trying hard to go against the action but he just wasn’t strong enough to resist. 

Sam felt the annoyance and frustration drain out of him when he finally got a close look at his brother. God. Even in his collar, chained to the bed, naked and cheeks flushed, eyes wide and vulnerable, Dean looked beautiful. Or maybe it was because of his predicament that his beauty stood out even more. His body was slimmer now that it had time to adjust to its new Omega status. 

“Fuck, Dean, you're gorgeous,” Sam said, lifting his hand up to his face without thinking. Dean looked like a deer in headlights for a moment as Sam touched his cheek gently, reverently. For a moment neither of them said anything. 

“You know I’m not a monster,” he said finally, breaking the silence. “I didn’t lie when I said I don’t like to hurt you, Dean, because I don’t.”

Dean didn’t say anything so Sam continued, “I know you probably don’t believe me, but one day, you’ll see that everything I’ve been doing has been necessary. Seriously. We’re going to look back on this someday and laugh. It’s a promise.” He didn’t wait for Dean to respond as he reached over his head and unhooked the chain.

Sam gave it a hard tug and said, “Now come on. We both need a shower. Like really badly.”

-

Castiel woke with a muffled groan. He opened his eyes and blinked. He couldn’t see anything. The darkness was thick and Castiel knew it wasn’t natural. Angels had very good vision, better than humans, and most other supernatural creatures. Even in the darkness, he should have been able to make out some of his surroundings. He tried to get up to his feet but heard the clinking of metal and found that he was stuck, kneeling. His arms and legs were chained to the wall behind him.

There was also something in his mouth that prevented him from talking. Castiel calmly looked inwardly for his grace and tried to use his powers to break from the chains. Something glowed, penetrating the unnatural darkness, but it was only for a moment, before the light faded. His grace was trapped. Castiel tried not to let it unsettle him. This had been part of the plan after all. Castiel had volunteered himself for this mission.

He bowed his head.

He just had to have faith in heaven. 

In Michael.


	25. defiance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! I'm sorry I made you wait so long but here's another chapter. Also again thanks so much for all the kudos and comments. I love reading and responding to each one. If you have any requests for scenes I am open to it. As you know I've been having some bad writer's block for this story but that's not going to deter me from finishing it. Also I have a question. I have been toying with this idea for a little while and someone reminded me of it. If I were to write a sequel perhaps, or by the end of the story, would you guys like to have Dean and Castiel become a pairing? The ending is not concrete yet. Anyways thank you for staying with me this far and I hope you enjoy this chapter and stay safe and healthy.

Sam remembered vividly, when they were much younger, bathing with Dean. Or rather, Dean _giving_ him baths. He remembered he wouldn’t ‘grow’ out of it until he presented as an Alpha and John thought it was ridiculous for an Alpha Sam’s age to still be taking baths. Sam remembered arguing about it one night with John because he was so fed up with him leaving them in motels every day and now he was telling Sam what he and Dean couldn’t do behind closed doors. 

_It was just a stinking bath_ , was what he’d yelled in the heat of the moment, his face getting red as his anger hit a near boiling point. He remembered thinking it was such a stupid argument but John wanted to set out to ruin every little thing Sam craved in a normal life. He wanted to move them around so Sam couldn’t make friends, he wanted to leave them day in and day out with barely any money to cover daily expenses so all they had to eat were a box of Lucky Charms and mac and cheese and now he was taking Sam’s big brother from him.

“Sam?” Dean’s voice, while barely above a whisper, jolted Sam back to the present. 

Dean was sitting on the edge of the white, porcelain toilet - the seat was down - and was looking at him. He was tapping his bare foot against the cold tile, a gentle rhythmic sound, a bad habit he developed over the years when he was anxious. One hand went up to touch at his collar, his fingers curling around the leather. 

Sam didn’t even realize he was licking his lips and leaning forward until they were just inches apart. Dean honestly looked good in the collar. He reached a hand out to unhook the chain from the ring - the only thing on the collar besides the sigil markings, ignoring the way Dean was leaning back to try and get away from his touch. Sam tried not to flinch at seeing his brother’s rejection. He set the chain down by the sink. It didn’t matter the way Dean was reacting to him right now, right? He could just fix his memories, make sure Dean couldn’t remember certain things, like Sam having powers. Sam could get a do-over and his brother could love him unconditionally again. 

Yeah. Sam liked that idea. Dean was getting a little too much out of hand. It was just better this way. Besides Sam didn’t want to have to punish his brother constantly, and if the past day had been any indication, well, Dean was going to earn himself more punishment than was needed. That just seemed to be ingrained in Dean at this point. Sam blamed John. All that shit from Dean’s time as an Alpha seemed to really have affected him more than Sam originally thought. He thought Dean would just completely give in at this point and sure, Sam saw it every now and then, but it was only when Dean had been without his memories that he’d become submissive. Maybe not completely complacent, but if Sam did it right this time and let Dean go off and get a ‘job’ and have some semblance of control, he was sure his brother would give in completely and just be happy to be with Sam.

“Sam,” Dean tried again, finally looking up at Sam. He licked his lips nervously. Sam found himself watching the movement, hypnotized. Dean’s cheeks flushed when he caught Sam staring and he turned his head away. Sam probably had a hungry look on his face, he could feel his own face heat and his dick was already getting interested. He didn’t care that Dean noticed though. Maybe, a long time ago, when he hadn’t had the guts to do all this, he might have felt embarrassed and would have ran like his clothes caught fire. But that Sam was long gone. That Sam never had the guts to get what he wanted. 

This Sam, he just wanted to show his brother how much he cherished him, how much he loved him. He wanted nothing more than to throw Dean into the shower and push him against the wall and fuck him so roughly all Dean could do was scream and pant and forget everything existed but Sam.

“You know, you don’t have to make it so awkward,” Dean mumbled, still not looking at him.

Sam frowned. “Make what awkward? I’m not making anything awkward, Dean.”

Dean turned to face him, looking at him with disbelief on his face. “Are you kidding? ‘Make what awkward’? How about for starters, you’re staring at me like you want to eat me alive, and fuck, I know you do but cut it out. It’s really fucking creepy,” he told Sam with a shudder. He started to inch back from Sam, his ass already halfway off the toilet and looked dangerously ready to fall but it didn’t look like Dean noticed, or cared.

Without thinking, Sam reached a hand to grab Dean’s left arm, catching his brother by surprise. Green eyes widened at the sudden grip and Sam gave him a hard pull. Dean staggered to his feet and would have tipped forward if Sam hadn’t been there ready for him. Sam embraced him with strong arms. He could feel Dean stiffening against him.

“I’m not going to lie to you, Dean,” Sam whispered in his ear, his breath hot and sending shivers down Dean’s neck, “you’re really pretty and tempting right now. Well, all the time. But you saying things like that doesn’t do either of us any favors. Besides, we both know you don’t mean it. On some level, you’re enjoying the attention I’ve been giving you.” He could feel his brother’s body trembling and he was pretty sure it wasn’t because of the chill in the bathroom. He started to gently trail his right hand down Dean’s stomach. “It’s okay to admit that you like the attention, Dean,” he told him. 

He could hear Dean’s breath coming out quicker, shallower, as his fingers lightly grazed the tip of his cock. “I...don’t,” he gasped as Sam’s thumb ran over the slit. “Let go...of me, S-Sammm.” The last part came out as a groan. 

Sam leaned his head forward to rest on his brother’s shoulder. He could hear Dean’s erratic breathing. “You don’t actually want me to let you go,” he said, gripping his cock tighter. “If you did, you’d push me away, you’d look disgusted. Your dick wouldn’t look so...interested.” He could feel warm fluid running down Dean’s dick, dripping between his own fingers. Dean was shaking his head and Sam had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. He wasn’t sure who Dean was really trying to convince here. Sam. Or himself.

He wasn’t sure what did it, but whatever it was, seemed to snap Dean out of his pleasurable haze. Before Sam realized what was happening, he was stumbling back, his head reeling in sudden pain. Fuck. Sam’s hand immediately reached up to his forehead, coming back red. Blood. He was staring down at his own blood. It was dripping down his forehead. He looked back up.

Dean spun to face him, his face red and lips curled in an ugly frown, baring white teeth, green eyes narrowed. His forehead sported a light gash and a bruise already blossoming beneath it. Sam stared at him. He actually hit him hard enough that they were both bleeding. Sam instinctively reached out to touch a hand on his shoulder but Dean saw the movement and took a step back.

“Don’t touch me,” he growled, backing into the corner on the other side of the toilet. “Don’t you dare touch me, Sam.”

Sam’s eyes narrowed. He was getting fed up with the sudden defiance Dean was displaying since he woke up. What the fuck was wrong with him? Why the hell was he always trying to be so difficult? God. It was almost like when he was still an Alpha. Sometimes they’d butt heads out on the road but Sam normally won whatever fight it was. Dean always ended up giving in. Sam would usually be able to outlast Dean, but today...today he wasn’t that patient. Besides, Dean had no right to be mad at him. Sam hadn’t done anything wrong.

Sam stalked over to Dean, cornering him, one hand slamming against the wall right next to his face, causing him to flinch. Dean was trembling a little, hunched over as Sam loomed over him, standing at his full height. Dean wasn’t much shorter, but like this, Sam might as well have a foot over him than just three inches. He leaned forward so that his face was just inches away from Dean’s. He could hear his brother’s breathing, fast and uneven, coming in short gasps. His stomach clenched as he realized Dean was actually _scared_ of him. At the same time, there was a bigger part of him that was _excited_. 

“I don’t think you quite understand your place in our relationship, Dean,” Sam said. “You don’t get to tell me what I can or can’t do. I own you. I can touch you if I want to, and you don’t get to defy me.” He watched as Dean’s eyes widened, understanding slowly dawning on him. He swallowed, the thrill was chasing away any fear he had, “I love you, Dean. I’ll always love you. But I’m your Alpha. You’re my Omega. Biology created you like this to submit to me and you’re going to submit, no questions asked. I don’t fucking do any of this for ‘kicks’. I don’t punish you because I like to see you in pain and I don’t fuck you purely for my own enjoyment. You like this too. We both know it. Now don’t make this hard on either of us and just do what I tell you to do.”

Despite being scared, Dean’s eyes narrowed and he stood up a little straighter and Sam just barely ducked out of a punch, Dean’s right arm swinging wildly at him. He tried to kick Sam in a knee but Sam saw it coming as well and froze Dean in place with his mind. He winced, hating to use his powers on his brother but he didn’t have another choice. Dean couldn’t really hurt him. He could draw blood, but whatever Sam had slowly started to become in the past few months, it was something more, something much better than human.

Dean glared at him. “Just because I’m an Omega now doesn’t make me an idiot,” he hissed. “Don’t feed me a bunch of lies. We already know you did something to my memories. I don’t have all the facts yet, but an _angel_ came to me, Sam.”

Sam froze at the mention of the angel. The very angel that he had chained up close by. He could feel his heart that had been steadily beating until now, pick up pace. “What did it say to you?”

“Funny that you’d ask. What does it matter now that it’s probably dead?” Dean sneered.

“Call it curiosity,” Sam said calmly. When Dean didn’t say anything for a moment, Sam warned, “ _Dean_.”

“Okay. Fine. He said you’ve been out destroying the world, Sam. You’ve been out riding with the demon we were trying to find to gank its ass for killing _mom_. He said you were evil. That you’re _Lucifer’s_ vessel.” Dean’s gaze lingered on him and Sam resisted the urge to flinch. It was like Dean was trying to dissect him, see what made Sam tick. He licked his lips before continuing, “And I told him he was ridiculous and my brother might be many things but it ain’t evil. You’re not _evil_ , Sam. What he told me isn't true.” There was less conviction and Sam could see the doubt in his brother’s eyes. Could hear it in his voice. It hurt. If there wasn’t a big gaping hole in Sam’s chest already, there’d be one now. 

Sam swallowed. “Yeah, Dean. I’m not evil.” He wasn’t. There might be a darkness that surrounded him, but Sam would know if he turned evil. He’d feel it. Wouldn’t he?

 _If you aren’t evil, then why do you have an angel locked up_? _Why do you keep Dean locked up? Why do you want to hurt people all the time_? _If you love Dean as much as you claim, why do you like seeing him wide eyed and scared and powerless underneath you_?

He shoved all those thoughts to the dark recesses of his mind.

“So then the angel was a liar,” Dean said slowly. “And...and we’re still on earth, right?”

“Of course we’re on earth,” Sam said. He suddenly didn’t want to play twenty questions with Dean. He found himself walking over to the shower and turning it on, turning the knob until warm water gushed down. He looked back at Dean from over his shoulder and said, “Come on, Dean. Forget what the angel said. It doesn’t matter. It’s dead now. Let’s just take a shower. Promise you’ll feel much better afterwards.”

Dean was still frozen in place as Sam stepped into the warmth of the shower. He sighed, already feeling relaxed. “Come on, man. Don’t make me force you because we both know I can and will and you probably won’t like it.”

That seemed to snap Dean out of his daze and he walked over, his movements almost mechanical. “I hope you know I’m only doing this because I have to. You’re right. You can force me to do anything you want and I can’t say _no_.”

Sam sighed, back up to make room for Dean to step in. “Don’t be so dramatic, Dean,” he said, feeling annoyed. He let Dean take the majority of the water, watching as he winced as water ran down his hair and over his forehead. The cut probably stung.

“I’m not being dramatic,” Dean snapped. “We both know it’s true. I don’t have any say in this...whatever the fuck we’re in. And if you have all this power, would it kill you to heal me or something? I thought you loved me.”

Something inside Sam snapped. Like a rubber band. Dean’s attitude had to go. Before he realized what he was doing, he had his brother pushed against the wall, his elbow pushed against his chest. “What the fuck is your problem, Dean?” he demanded.

Dean was gasping for air, his face red. He managed to spit out, “ _You_.”


	26. it's all in your head

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello. Thank you for all the kudos and comments as usual. I do enjoy reading and responding to every single one. I'm leaning towards making Dean and Cas just have a platonic bond. I think the story is heading in that direction. I mean you can certainly view it as romantic if you want. Hope you guys are all safe. This chapter is a little longer than last chapter. Hope that's okay. A couple warnings: non-con shower sex scene, non-con touching, non-con in general. Remember, this is all Sam's POV. It is very UNRELIABLE. Like VERY.
> 
> Also I'm sorry. Don't hate me. Too much. Or hate me. Up to you. Alright, enjoy!

“You know, sometimes, I don’t understand you, Dean,” Sam said, grinding his cock against his brother’s ass. Dean gasped, involuntarily pushing back, causing Sam to groan in pleasure. He pressed his cock into the crack of his buttocks. Dean’s hole clenched as he dug his fingers into his brother’s shoulder. A shudder ran down his body as Sam leaned in closer, lips just barely touching sensitive earlobes. “You keep saying you don’t want me to touch you but when I do, you’re moaning like a cheap hooker. Which is it? Do you like me touching you? Or are you just trying to piss me off?”

“D-doesn’t take much to piss you off,” Dean gasped, trying to force his body to stay still.

Sam wasn’t having it. He was getting really tired of Dean trying to lie to himself. He pressed his elbow harder into Dean’s back, hearing him grunt in pain. With his other hand, he grabbed his hair and tugged, pulling Dean’s head back. Wide green eyes were forced to look back at Sam. His cock, still hard, was halfway in his brother’s ass. Sam could feel slick dripping. It was warm and wet. It felt good.

“Drop your attitude, Dean. No use pretending around me. You love this. I know you do,” he hissed. _You love me. Just fucking say it. Please._

Dean didn’t say anything at first. Just kept staring at Sam like he lost his mind. And Sam tugged his hair again. Slick was still dripping everywhere and he could see Dean’s cock half hard, even pressed against the wall. He could smell Dean’s arousal so why couldn’t he just drop the act and just be grateful because Sam was trying to give him what he wanted? What they both wanted? 

He pressed in a little more, his cock sliding into Dean with barely any resistance and suddenly, it was like Dean came back to life and he was bucking and clawing and fighting so hard that Sam almost lost balance and stumbled back. Instead he slammed Dean against the wall with more force than he meant to and Dean’s head collided hard against the glass.

He let go and took a step back, letting Dean slide to the floor with a groan. Sam watched as blood dripped to the floor of the shower, mixing into the water. Part of him was horrified that he’d hurt Dean but the other part thought maybe if Dean had just admitted what he wanted from the start none of this would’ve happened. Not sure what else to do, Sam found himself slowly crouching down. Dean was still slumped on the floor when Sam reached out to cup his brother’s chin, tilting his head up. He brushed away a few strands of hair that covered his bruise, noticed the flinch when he did so.

Gently he wiped away some of the blood on his brother’s face. “Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. Here.” He touched two fingers to his brother’s forehead, watched as Dean closed his eyes almost on instinct as bright light burst out. The cut sealed itself and the bruise became smaller and smaller until there was nothing but smooth skin in its place. 

For a moment, Sam couldn’t help but stare. He gently traced his fingers over his brother’s forehead, where the cut had been. It was soft and unbroken, perfect, like there hadn’t been anything there to begin with. He trailed his fingers down his cheek, tracing those light dusting of freckles, before coming to a rest of those plump, soft lips. _Beautiful._ Dean was beautiful. He traced the bottom of his lips, entranced. Found himself leaning forward, dipping his head down, wanting to wrap Dean into his arms and kiss him and never let him go. Just as Sam was just inches away, Dean’s eyes snapped open and he gasped in surprise, looking ready to shove him off, but Sam was ready this time. Dean wasn’t going to try and stop him this time, not when he so clearly wanted this as much as Sam.

“Stop this, Sam,” Dean pleaded, but that was all he could get out before Sam shut him up with a deep kiss. He could hear his brother whimpering into the kiss, could feel his arousal, could smell it as he pressed closer. Dean couldn’t hide it. Not now. Not ever.

They broke off and Sam grabbed Dean’s dick, listened as he gasped and whined as Sam kept tugging at it. It was wet and warm in his hand and Dean kept trying to buck up, desperate for Sam to jerk him off. 

“Do you still want me to stop?” Dean just groaned and jerked forward into his hand and that was answer enough for Sam. He helped his brother reach his climax and smiled when Dean spilled his load into his palm. 

Dean slumped back down, head hanging forward, his breaths coming out in short gasps. Sam wondered vaguely if this was it. If Dean had finally given into biology. He reached over and tilted Dean’s head up so that he could look back at Sam. Bleary green eyes stared at him, sated and tired. His lips were slightly parted and Sam reached out the hand that was covered in Dean’s cum. He stopped short of Dean’s face, watched as green eyes stared at him, uncomprehending.

“Clean it,” he said. He waited a moment for the words to sink in. For Dean’s eyes to widen with sudden understanding as he looked from Sam’s face to his cum covered hand then back again. “Lick me clean.”

“Come on, man,” Sam urged when Dean didn’t say anything, just sat there staring up at him. Sam reached down and grabbed Dean’s chin. Dean tried to jerk his head out of his grasp but Sam was stronger and he wasn’t going to be moved unless he wanted it that way. He licked his lips, the urge to smear cum all over his brother’s face almost too strong to resist. Dean would look so pretty covered in white. Without even thinking about it, Sam put his palm against Dean’s lips.

Dean’s eyes widened and he tried to jerk his head back, but Sam’s grip on his face just tightened and he gasped at the pain. Sam took the opportunity to try and push his palm into Dean’s parted lips, successfully getting some of the cum into his mouth. “Swallow it,” he told Dean, not letting go until his brother gagged trying to swallow it down.

Satisfied, Sam let go and stepped back. Dean coughed and reached up to touch his face. His lips were still parted and there was a thin line of cum dribbling down his chin. He looked up at Sam with large green eyes under those girly long lashes that made him look almost a decade younger.

“You okay?” Sam asked when Dean coughed again. Vaguely Sam wondered if he’d gone too far this time. Logically he knew Dean couldn’t die, at least not so easily. He reached out a hand but Dean just glared at him and slapped his hand away. A small part of him was hurt to see his brother push him away (again) but another part was getting annoyed. “Dude, I’m just trying to help.”

Dean snorted, pushing himself up, leaning heavily against the wall. He swiped angrily at the cum that was still smeared on his face. “Yeah? Well, I think you’ve _helped_ enough, Sam,” he said loudly, louder than he really needed to because Sam was standing right there.

He bristled. What was up with Dean’s sudden attitude anyway? “Why are you getting mad? I just gave you a handjob. I didn’t even have to.”

“Maybe I didn’t want a damn handjob,” Dean snapped.

Sam was getting tired of Dean always arguing with him. Like he even knew what he wanted, especially of late. “Yeah, well, you got one anyway,” he said, crossing his arms. _So be freaking grateful_ , he almost added.

They stood there for a moment, just staring at each other. When it looked like all Dean was going to do was stand there, Sam picked up the shampoo bottle by his feet. He sighed, feeling his annoyance seep out. “Look, you can be mad at me all you want, but I was just trying to give you what you want.”

Dean continued to glare at him and didn’t make a move, even when Sam gestured for him to step closer. “I told you I didn’t want it.”

“Whatever, man. You did, but I’m getting tired of arguing with you. Just come over here so I can put shampoo in your hair. I love you, man, but no offence but you smell gross,” Sam said. The joke landed flat with Dean as he crossed his arms.

“Fuck you.”

Really? Sam was getting super tired of Dean’s stubbornness, especially when it kept randomly popping up just to annoy the crap out of him. “Okay, I’m going to give you two options here, Dean. And I’m not going to repeat myself. Get your ass over here of your own free will or I’ll _make_ you.” His voice came out almost in a growl and Dean’s reaction was almost instant.

His eyes widened slightly and he bowed his head a little in a sign of submission. Sam was pretty sure that was a direct reaction to him basically posturing and using his Alpha status. Some part of him was pleased that he had so much control over his own brother like that.

_Sounding a little like your old man there, aren’t you, kiddo?_

He gripped the shampoo bottle tighter, trying to push the thought back down. He was nothing like John. John was a piece of shit excuse for an Alpha and even more of a piece of shit father. 

_Maybe you’re worse._

No. No he fucking wasn’t.

“Come on, Dean,” he snapped when his brother still didn’t move. He pulled Dean toward him with his mind. He ignored the way Dean’s body was shaking, trying to resist. Dean wasn’t going anywhere without Sam’s say so. He was stronger than Dean, always had been. And he was always going to be stronger, thanks to Azazel and the demon blood. 

He wasn’t going to admit to Dean all the things he’d done with the demon during those three months. Dean wasn’t ready to hear it. Sam was starting to wonder if he ever will.

_No he won’t. He’ll always think you’re a monster. That you’re evil. Hell, that angel told him as much._

Those treacherous thoughts came back to the forefront of his mind and he couldn’t seem to shake them this time.

He poured a generous amount of shampoo into Dean’s hair and started to massage it in, feeling his nails scrape against his scalp. It probably wasn’t as gentle as he could’ve been because he saw Dean flinch in pain, but he couldn’t bring himself to apologize. Instead he pulled Dean under the shower head, the sudden spray of warm water causing him to shiver. 

He grabbed a bar of soap next and began to lather Dean’s body with it. He trailed soap down his stomach, pausing at his flaccid cock. Dean was still shivering, but otherwise didn’t move to try and get away. He took Dean’s cock in one hand, stroking it a couple times. Dean gasped as his cock started to harden. Sam hummed as he lathered it with soap. He debated on making Dean cum for a second time in the shower but decided he’d rather finish cleaning him. Besides, Dean would just complain again.

_With good reason._

_Shut up_ , he thought back. He worked the soap down Dean’s right thigh and leg, before going up the other. Then he turned Dean around and moved onto his back. Dean didn’t try to fight him.

_Not like he can. You’re using your powers on him when you told him you wouldn’t._

_Shut up._ He worked his way down to the globes of Dean’s buttocks. He watched as soap and water trailed down his back. It made his skin glisten in the light.

_You keep thinking you’re doing the right thing. You keep thinking he wants this. You think you’re saving him._

_Because I am_ , he thought, almost desperately. His fingers trailed down to the crack of his brother’s ass. Dean still hadn’t moved away. He could if he wanted to, couldn’t he? If he actually really hated Sam that much. If he really wanted to get away from him. 

_No, you really aren’t. But you keep telling yourself you are. You’re saving him. Like you’re some kind of hero. But what are you really saving him from?_

_Shut up. Shut the fuck up._ He pushed a finger in, nail scraping against flesh. He could feel Dean shudder.

_Dean. Always Dean. Poor precious Dean. Always having to put up with you. You and your sick, sorry, **evil** ass._

“Shut the fuck up! I’m not evil!” Sam pumped his finger in and out. He could feel Dean rock back, a small gasp letting loose. There was slick, or maybe it was the water, or the soap or all three, just leaking out and around his finger. He put another finger into his brother’s loose hole, finding very little resistance. He wrapped his other arm around Dean and pulled him closer, so that Dean’s back was resting against his chest. He inhaled his brother’s scent. It smelled good, shampoo mixed with cinnamon and apples. It reminded Sam of the Impala and Dean’s favorite leather jacket and the cassette tapes he’d play just to annoy Sam. Just for a moment, he was going to have this. 

_So what you’re doing right now. Fingering your brother against his will. You don’t think that’s evil? You’re just going to pretend he wants this and you’re going to go back to playing house like it’s normal?_

Anger was mounting dangerously inside him. Logically he knew he should stop, should try and quash it before it got to that boiling point and just explode. Because he’d take it out on Dean and it wasn’t his brother’s fault Sam was mad. That he was mad at that little voice in his head that was getting more and more vocal as the days passed by, as he used his powers more and more. He realized it was part of him. The part that he didn’t want to admit was there. That kept egging him on to the point where Sam would be so furious he’d hardly recognize himself. 

It wasn’t Dean’s fault Sam was so messed up in the head.

_Or maybe it is._

Sam froze. What?

_Maybe you’re right. Maybe you aren’t evil. Maybe it’s Dean. Maybe he’s made you so obsessed with him, you can’t think straight. Maybe he’s always had you by the leash with his big, pretty green eyes and girly long lashes and those sinfully plush lips just begging to suck your cock._

No. Fuck no. Dean didn’t lead Sam to temptation. He didn’t lead him to the demons and destruction. Did he?

_What if he did? You hadn’t always been this way. You hadn’t always realized what a whore your brother was. You’d been fine when you were a kid. You went to school despite your father wanting you to hunt. You tried to get away from Dean before he could tempt you further. You went to college. You tried to make it work with that pretty college girl. What was her name? Jess? You could’ve become a lawyer and bought a house and had an apple pie life. It wouldn’t have been perfect, but you could’ve made it work._

That was…

_You know I’m right. You tried so hard to get away. But he went back for you anyways. The older brother, but he was weak. He has always been weaker than you, hasn’t he, Sammy?_

Sam swallowed. “Who are you?”

He’d forgotten it was all in his head, forgotten Dean was there, under him. “Sam?”

Sam looked down to see Dean trying to twist around. Green eyes stared at him, confused and maybe a little nervous. “Don’t worry about it,” Sam told him. He twisted his fingers inside his brother and Dean struggled weakly to try and get away. But it was no use. Like the voice in his head said, he was always going to be stronger than Dean.

_I’m you, Sammy._

But that couldn’t be true. He continued to pump his fingers in and out. Dean bucked under him.

“Sam.” Dean’s voice, a whisper, snapped Sam back into reality.

“Yeah?”

“Let me go, please,” Dean was begging, his voice hoarse.

Sam hesitated.

_No. Don’t. He wants this, remember, Sammy?_

“Please stop.” Dean again, trying to twist in his grasp. It wasn’t doing any good.

_He doesn’t want it to stop. Look at how interested his dick is. Look at how much slick is coming out. He’s trying to fight biology, but he can’t. You’re doing this for him._

That was true. One of the reasons he set this place up was to get Dean used to the changes, his new life. Besides, he was producing a lot of slick. He must want it on some level.

_Yeah. He wants this even if he doesn’t say it. Just look at him. He can’t help but fuck right back into your fingers. If he doesn’t want this, he wouldn’t be doing that, right?_

Yeah. That was true too.

“Sam, please.” But the begging wouldn’t stop.

_So stop it then._

How?

_You know how._

“Sam?”

“Shut up, Dean,” Sam snapped. He finally pulled his fingers out. He thought he heard a sigh of relief from Dean but it was short lived once he positioned his achingly hard cock.

“Don’t, don’t you do this,” Dean was saying, begging. “Don’t you fucking do this.”

“Don’t be dramatic,” Sam said. He pushed his dick in, heard Dean hiss at the intrusion. Sam tightened his grip around Dean’s stomach. _It’s just my dick, Dean. I fucked you like a hundred times by now_ , he wanted to say.

He fucked in and out of his brother until he felt his knot start to form. Dean grunted in pain as Sam pushed slowly in. _Good_ , he thought. Let him hurt a little. He was done with Dean’s stubbornness. Dean needed this. It was obvious. And quite frankly, Sam did too.

The knot managed to go all the way in and he sighed as he pumped his load in him. Dean was slumped under him, huffing a little as Sam tightened his arm. He turned the water off after a moment, realizing they’d be stuck together for a little while.

Then he dried them off with a snap of his fingers and blinked them out of the bathroom and onto the bed. Dean was laying on his stomach, a pillow propped under his chin. Sam slumped over him, lazily tracing random patterns on his back.

For a few minutes neither of them said a word.

Then, Dean said quietly, “You’re not my brother.”

And Sam froze.

It was like the whole world stopped moving. There was no way Dean just said that. Right?

“What, Dean?” His own voice sounded distant. Weak.

 _You know exactly what he said_ , that awful, horrible little voice in the back of his head had come back to taunt him some more.

He felt Dean tense up, muscles becoming stiff. “I said ‘ _you’re not my brother_ ’.”

You’re not my brother. The words had been said loudly, confidently. There was no chance to have misheard. Or pretend. 

His first reaction was to blurt out, “That’s not true. Don’t say that.”

And he probably would have. Was going to. It was on the tip of his tongue. All he had to do was say it.

But then the voice he was beginning to really hate that seemed to have taken permanent residence in his head decided this was the ideal time to pipe up.

_You should punish him._

What?

He could feel his brother shift under him. He wasn’t sure what Dean was doing. Trying to get more comfortable? Or get away? His stomach lurched at the thought of the latter.

 _See? He’s being ungrateful. Here you are, making sweet love to him, and he can’t even stay put. He doesn’t even see you as his brother._

Shut up.

Dean moved again and Sam grit his teeth. He wished Dean wouldn’t move so much. They were still tied together. It didn’t hurt him. But it was probably hurting Dean.

“Dean, stop moving,” he said.

Dean shook his head. “I don’t have to listen to you. You’re not my brother,” he insisted.

“I am your brother,” Sam repeated. He didn’t understand why Dean kept insisting he wasn’t.

_He’s trying to piss you off. Just punish him._

“You’re not Sam,” Dean said. “You’re not him. Sam wouldn’t do this.”

What?

“What?” he repeated out loud.

“You’re not Sam,” Dean repeated.

If they hadn’t still been tied together, Sam would have jerked back in surprise. He wasn’t comprehending what Dean was saying to him. “I am Sam,” he said.

Dean didn’t say anything for a long moment. Sam wished he’d turn around. “Look at me, Dean,” he said.

He did.

And instantly Sam regretted it. “Dean?”

Dean stared at him. His face, usually expressive, was completely blank. “Who are you?”

Sam stared back at him. He opened his mouth but couldn’t get words out.

_Congratulations, Sammy. You not only broke the world, but you also broke your brother._


	27. broken

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Sorry it took me another month. I took a break from the story but I've decided I really want to give you guys the conclusion to this part soon. It's been a ride and I think we've got just a few more chapters left. I honestly can't believe how many hits and kudos and subscriptions and comments this story has gotten. You guys have been amazing and so very patient. Thank you for all of the encouragement, even when I haven't been inspired. I mean it. Thank you so much for sticking with me and hopefully you'll be satisfied with the ending I have planned. I know I can't appease everyone, but hopefully I can satisfy enough of you guys that you feel these past few months have been worth it. With all of that out of the way, here's the next chapter. Again, just remember to check the tags.

“Dean, cut it out,” Sam said, shaking his brother. This was a joke, right? A stupid prank. “It’s not funny. In fact, it’s childish.”

“I’m not trying to be funny here, pal. I don’t fucking know who you-” Dean abruptly stopped himself and looked to see where Sam was still tied to him. His face suddenly twisted with emotion and Sam nearly toppled back when Dean tried to push him off. “What the fuck? Is that...your dick in my ass? Why the hell are you _in_ me? Get out!”

One of Sam’s hands grabbed Dean’s wrist. His brother tried to twist out of his grasp but Sam was much stronger and held on, tightening his hold to the point of pain. Dean let out a gasp in surprise and tried to kick out one of his legs but that move was futile. “Dean, calm down,” Sam hissed. He twisted Dean’s arm so that it was pressed against his back, putting added weight forward. “You’re my Omega so do as you’re told.”

“W-what? I can’t be your Omega. I’m an Alpha,” Dean growled. He tried to move his arm but Sam held it in place. “Let me go, you sick son of a bitch!” He started to struggle in earnest, twisting and kicking and clawing for freedom. But it was useless. He wasn’t going anywhere Sam didn’t want.

_Look at how pathetic he is, squirming like a fish on a hook._

Sam tried to ignore the thought. “Listen to me, Dean, I’m your brother. Okay? I’m Sam. Now stop struggling. It’s pointless.”

_You know he’s not going to listen to reason. He doesn’t even believe you’re his brother._

What the hell am I supposed to do then? He wasn’t even sure why he was even asking. The voice, no matter how dark and twisted, was a part of him so if Sam didn’t know the answer to that question, how the hell was the voice going to know either?

“You’re not Sam,” Dean snarled. “My brother’s only thirteen, moron! And he wouldn’t do this to me. Not in a million fucking years!”

Sam froze. Thirteen? 

“How old are you, Dean?”

Dean seemed to freeze. Then he was struggling all over again, and Sam couldn’t suppress the snarl that ripped from his throat. That stopped Dean in his tracks. Fucking finally. “How. Old. Are. You?” 

“S-s-seventeen,” his brother stammered, clearly scared. He slumped in Sam’s hold and Sam knew he should feel relieved Dean wasn’t putting up a fight anymore, but all he could think was: _Dean thinks he’s seventeen._

He thought Sam was thirteen. _What the hell is going on?_

He could feel his knot start to deflate and he slowly pulled himself out. Dean stayed where he was, belly flat on the bed, even as Sam moved to sit up behind him. Sam knew his brother could feel the hot tendrils of his powers curling around them, like a live, breathing snake. He was probably scared shitless, but even so, he remained as still as he could. Admirable, but stupid. Sam could see his legs trembling. It was barely noticeable. You’d have to be watching intently to see it. If Sam had been anybody else, he probably wouldn’t have noticed. But Sam was _Sam_. Not anybody else. And Dean was his brother. His family. His everything.

And so Sam knew all of Dean’s little tics. He was scared but trying not to show it. But even fearless big brothers still showed something when they were scared. Even someone as immovable and unbreakable as Dean. There was always a weakness, a tiny chink in the armor. Sam, poor thirteen year old Sam, hadn’t known it at the time. Put his brother on such a pedestal. Thought his brother was Superman. Strong, and impenetrable. But as the years had rolled by, Sam realized his mistake. Almost too late. Luckily for Sam, even trying to get away from the one person he knew he’d always love (deep down, so far deep down it was so freaking easy to deny and pretend it didn’t ever exist), the one person he’d move all of Heaven and Hell and the earth for, that person would come back to him, and he’d able to put his crazy plan to work and save the man who’d taught him everything he’d ever known (and honestly, it’d been easy, so easy Sam always wondered if Dean knew what he was doing and secretly wanted Sam to succeed, that’d he’d known all this time that he was supposed to be something different than what he’d been born as). 

Honestly, seeing Dean like this, seeing Dean as he’d been when he’d (for real) been seventeen, Sam felt so stupid. It was obvious. So glaringly obvious. Seeing Dean splayed out like a cheap hooker, beautiful and freckled skin on display, shaking with nerves and helpless to his biology, Sam couldn’t see the invincible older brother he thought he’d been all those years ago. He sighed, reaching over to touch Dean’s back, tracing over the pale flesh. He could feel the shiver that ran up Dean’s spine at the sudden touch and he couldn’t help but smile. No matter what Dean said, whether he believed he was actually seventeen or not, this was his brother’s body. Beautiful and amazing and flawless and _Sam’s_. Every little bump and line and faint scar, every little imperfection that made Dean, they all belonged to Sam. And it felt good, better than good, like Sam was riding a high-

“Y-you shouldn’t touch me,” Dean’s voice jolted Sam back to reality.

Sam blinked, his hand pausing on the curve of Dean’s bare ass. He could feel his fingers curling into the skin, could see the slight wince as his brother turned to look at him. There was a flash of pain and hurt in his eyes, and when Sam only tightened his grip, making it more painful, he could see Dean’s initial puzzlement slowly turn into anger. His brother’s lips curling into a snarl, his body tensing under Sam’s weight, “Get off me.”

And there was a part of Sam, that more hated part that he knew could be selfish and vindictive and mean, that made him lean close to his brother so their noses were practically touching and said, “What are you going to do if I don’t?” 

It was out of his mouth before he could stop it and if Sam was being honest, really truly honest, with himself, he’d think he was completely in his right to not even feel a little bad with the way Dean was jerking his head back, eyes almost impossibly wide like he didn’t consider any other answer besides, ‘Sure, Dean, whatever you say.’ Because really, what was Dean expecting exactly? That he could mess with Sam’s head by pretending he was seventeen and pretending Sam wasn’t really Sam and he was being an asshole when he was in fact doing the polar opposite? He was saving Dean and this was all the thanks he got? He was the one person who stood by his brother. No matter what happened. Like when Dean had been dying because he stupidly, stupidly ran guns blazing down into that god forsaken basement to rescue a couple scared little kids (who probably don’t even remember their names now) from a rawhead. Or when John did kill Dean (accident or no accident, it didn’t matter. He pulled the fucking trigger and for that he could rot in fucking hell for all Sam cared). Sam was the one who had to pick up the broken pieces of his brother and bring him to life. He traded his life for his brother. And the sad thing (or not sad) was that Sam would do it over again if he had another chance. Because Dean was worth it. He’d always be worth it. Even when he acted ungrateful and acted like he didn’t understand. Sam had come to the sad conclusion that his brother may never understand. The depths of his love for Dean. It ran so deep and so far and it was endless and unwavering and sometimes even Sam got a little scared. But at least he’d come to accept it. Unlike Dean. Who was acting like a brat and shoving Sam’s love around like it was a toy. So sue him for taking a little satisfaction on the look of terror that would sometimes flash across Dean’s face. 

_Serves him right_ , that pesky little voice piped up. For once Sam didn’t argue.

He’d done so much for Dean and his brother sometimes acted like he didn’t care. Well, Sam never claimed he was fucking perfect.

He’d been so caught up in his thoughts he almost didn’t hear his brother. 

“I, I...won’t t-tell anybody about this if you just let me go,” Dean was whispering. He still looked kind of scared and Sam would’ve felt bad, if he wasn’t already feeling annoyed that this wasn’t _actually_ Dean. “I promise, man. Not even my...dad.”

And that right there, just the mere mention of John, had Sam practically snarling. Had the tendrils of his powers hissing and seething like a pissed off rattlesnake. He could feel it the very moment Dean tried to jerk away from him, taken aback by Sam’s sudden and bewildering reaction. He followed Dean as he rolled to his side, almost to the edge of the bed. Got in his face, as he hissed, “Don’t talk about John. Not _ever_.” 

He watched as his brother’s face screwed up with emotion. Couldn’t pinpoint which one because they’d all gone by so fast and Dean was nodding along, shoulders shaking, face red, and he whispered, “Okay. Okay, sir. No problem.” And there wasn’t really a trace of that Alpha assertiveness from before, like it’d all fizzled out, soon as he felt Sam’s rage. Hot and heavy and painful in the very air around them. And Sam was seeing more of his seventeen year old brother than he cared to admit. The one thirteen year old Sam swore was invincible and would never fall. Not like the way John did. Crumpled to the ground like a broken marionette doll. No, this Dean...he’d pretended. Pretended for years. ‘Til he was twenty-six. He’d put on John’s leather jacket and listened to his favorite rock music and drove his ‘67 Chevy Impala and continued the family business, pretending what they did (what John did) was making a world a better place, one person at a time (maybe a family, on a good day). This Dean though...he was nothing more than a scared little kid who just wanted his little brother to love him by pretending to be something he wasn’t. It was so obvious, it hurt. How could Sam not have noticed before? How could he have left Dean to play pretend while he’d been busy pretending his brother didn’t exist? How could he have tried to play normal with Jess when Dean had suffered alone with that asshole John Winchester?

 _It doesn’t matter now, Sammy_ , that awful (yet helpful) voice said. _You already saved him from that, remember? This isn’t really Dean. Just an echo of him._

But it was still Dean. It was Dean’s body.

 _It might be his body but it isn’t his mind. It isn’t his soul._

But…

_He’s still in there. He’s hiding._

Why? That didn’t make sense. Why would Dean be hiding? Who would Dean be hiding from?

He waited a moment for the voice to answer back.

_You know why he’d be hiding. You know who he’d be hiding from. You’re not stupid. You’re not dense. C’mon. Who here has been the only true contact Dean’s ever had for the past four months? Hell, the past twenty-two years._

Sam blinked, feeling his hand start to tremble. _No. You can’t actually mean...me._

_Ding, ding, ding! Give the boy a prize!_

_Why the fuck would Dean want to hide from me?_ He couldn’t help but shout in his head.

The voice seemed to sigh. _Why wouldn’t he? Think about it. He comes back for you and tries to be the loving big brother, and what do you do in return? You lie to him and turn him into an Omega. You claim him and kill his father in cold blood and you drag him around the country like he’s a misbehaved dog._

_Dean’s not a fucking dog! I never treated him like one! I did all of this for him!_

He wasn’t sure why he was arguing with himself. Maybe he was going a little crazy after all. But the voice wouldn’t shut up and it was accusing Sam of doing things he didn’t do and he felt like he had to justify his actions (which was probably really stupid but Sam was not the bad guy here, he was not evil).

_Maybe so but he doesn’t understand your reasons, remember? He doesn’t get it. He probably never will. Just face the facts, Sammy. He’s kind of selfish like that. Still don’t get why you’re so gung-ho over this guy._

_You’re part of me. You tell me_ , Sam shot back. _And so what if Dean doesn’t get it? He doesn’t have to. That’s not how love works anyway. I can’t choose who to love. Sure it’d be nice if he’d show some appreciation every once in a while but all I know is he’s my brother and I’d do anything for him. And...and I’m gonna get him back. The real Dean._

_What are you going to do?_

_Whatever it takes._ Sam took a deep breath, and pressed two fingers against Dean’s forehead. If Dean was locked up inside his mind, it should be easy to find and bring him back out. What a fucking selfish asshole, trying to hide from Sam when all he ever did was shower Dean with love. He’d bare his very soul out and for what? For Dean to stomp all over it? He’d killed dad and brought Dean back from death. Dean didn’t get to do this to him. Sam had given everything to his brother. He just wanted the two of them to be happy.

He could see the doorways in Dean’s mind. Jagged and broken memories. Splintered and remade by Sam’s hands. Fully intact ones that Sam saw no problem in leaving. The ones where Dean had been four years and saw mom screaming and burning on the ceiling. The ones where Dean had carried baby Sammy out in his arms, where John had swooped in like a shadow and ran to somewhere safe as they watched their home burn. Sam had to make himself walk away from those memories.

He was looking for Dean. Where would Dean go to when he was trying to hide (from Sam)? What was a memory that he’d rather bury himself in than face the stark reality of being Sam’s Omega? What could be more precious and loving than Sam’s adoring shower of affections? He walked slowly from one door to another, before turning to see a door at the very end...it felt oddly familiar and as he pressed his palm against it, he could feel a current of electricity through it. Shocked, he recoiled his hand. Just for a moment though. Because something was telling him this was the door. This was where Dean was hiding in. Vaguely, he remembered this door. The last time he’d been in his brother’s head...there’d been a door he couldn’t get through.

He took a breath and tried to open the door, jiggling the knob. But it didn’t move. He pressed his hand flat on it and tried to will it open. Nothing. The currents pounced on his powers like they were attack dogs and Sam, bewildered, stood there. What the fuck was going on?

Then just like the last time, he was flung from Dean’s mind. And Dean was looking at him, wide green eyes staring straight into his, just as surprised as Sam, and his lips parted, and he whispered, “ _Castiel_.”


	28. angel in the basement

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always thank you so much for all of the kudos and comments. I love reading and responding to you guys. I feel like this chapter was long overdue so let's get right to it. Just some warnings for perspective shifts and torture...

It was still dark when Castiel woke up for the third time since he had been taken. Samuel had not come to check on him, not even once, and Castiel thought it may have been a day since he had been here. His human vessel had grown numb from hours of kneeling in the same position. He could feel Jimmy Novak getting restless somewhere in the recesses of his mind. The soul of the man had been with Castiel for so long, it was almost hard to tell which part was the human, Jimmy, and which part was the angel, Castiel. 

But the little niggling, like one of those annoying, persisting itches that you can’t quite reach, was unmistakable. “Everything will be alright, my friend,” Castiel murmured. “Sleep now, Jimmy.” He started to hum under his breath. It was something he learned that helped to quell the man years ago by accident. Jimmy had told him once that his mother used to sing to him _Here Comes the Sun_. It helped to calm his nerves as a kid when he was sung to. Castiel didn’t know how to sing, but he knew how the song went. He’d been in Jimmy’s body for decades now, had sifted through his memories, had seen and touched and felt the man’s soul. He knew everything that made Jimmy tick. In all the ways that counted, Castiel was Jimmy and Jimmy was Castiel.

He could feel Jimmy’s soul sigh, and his restlessness had stopped. Jimmy faded into the background and Castiel finished the song. Hours passed before he heard footsteps. They were faint but angels had pretty good hearing and it was oh so very quiet in the room. They became louder, the closer they got, until they were stopped just outside of the door. Castiel instinctively turned in the direction of the sound. The door slowly creaked open and Castiel could see the silhouette of Samuel standing at the top of the stairs. He stared down at Castiel, his face full of hot fury, the kind that Castiel had seen only on Michael when he knew that he was in the right and one of the angels in the garrison needed to be punished.

“What the hell did you do to my brother?” he spat, stomping down the stairs. He was on Castiel in the span of just a few seconds, gripping his shoulders so tight, it was painful but the angel managed to remain calm even in the face of Samuel’s wrath. “He’s _my_ brother. You have _no_ fucking right to try and take him from me! Absolutely none!”

Castiel said nothing. He knew Samuel was looking for a response, that it’d probably infuriate him even more if Castiel held his tongue. He was right. Samuel couldn’t seem to take the silence, even if just for a few minutes, and he was shaking Castiel as if he was a rag doll, still red in the face, his eyes narrowed into almost slits, the black coming to replace that light hazel of his eyes, “Tell me! Tell me what the fuck you did to Dean, you fucking angelic _dick_!”

And still, Castiel found the strength to keep his silence. He hadn’t been sure what Samuel meant at first. He didn’t remember doing anything with Dean Winchester, but then it dawned on him that when he had touched the human’s mind during their distant conversation, he had dropped just a sliver of his grace, just enough to keep a connection with Dean open. It had been a risky move, he had never done something like that before and Michael had warned him against doing something so reckless once he found out Castiel wanted to try and find Dean Winchester through the human’s dreams. He also wasn’t sure at the time if Samuel could detect something like that inside his brother. Based on his reactions now, however, Castiel knew he had no idea it was his grace that was doing something. He sort of wished he knew what specifically was happening with Dean Winchester though. He supposed he could risk communicating with Dean again once Samuel left, let the man know that all hope wasn’t lost, because in three days, the whole garrison, led by Michael would storm this awful place and save him and destroy the Antichrist.

“ _You will remember to play your part, Castiel. You have three days to find a way to save Dean Winchester and stop the Antichrist. That is the time we expect to break that wretched demon and when we do, we will come and find you, brother_ ,” Michael had told him. Castiel remembered Michael's face during that conversation, how his eyes were gentle and concerned and his voice was full of sincerity, so unlike the normally powerful and commanding archangel that would stand proud with his lance, before all of Heaven. It was a rare side of his brother that he only ever showed a few times, to a handful of angels, and so most of their brothers and sisters probably forgot that Michael did care about them, that the angels may have been created as warriors of God, but they were also family. “ _If you have not taken care of Sam Winchester by that time, he will fall by my sword and we will get you out. We will not let you perish in whatever forsaken place Samuel takes you._ ”

Castiel nodded and said, “ _Yes, my Commander._ ”

Castiel just had to last two more days then. Samuel had stopped shaking him when Castiel came back to the present. He stared up at Samuel’s demonic face and smiled coldly, “You will get nothing out of me, Samuel.”

Samuel’s grip tightened but Castiel barely felt it. He snarled in anger and shoved the angel against the wall. The back of Castiel’s head collided against the wall with a sickening crack. Had he been human, he realized that would’ve been the end of him, but angels were not as fragile as humans. He tried to inwardly apologize to Jimmy though he knew the human had taken far worse. Jimmy knew the risks and it never seemed to deeply concern him because Castiel always managed to fix their body after. It was just one of the prices paid when allowing an angel to take up residence in your body.

Samuel seemed even more furious by Castiel’s lack of reaction to the abuse. He hauled the angel up against the wall, as far as the chains would allow, thin black mist popping out of existence to surround them. Castiel could feel the mist against his skin, hot enough to leave small burns on his hands, as it slowly traveled up his arms, slithering like a snake. “It was a mistake to let you live,” Samuel was saying, as Castiel was forced to focus on the sensation of burning flesh.

“Yes, kill me then. Show _everyone_ the abomination you truly are. You will feel the wrath of Heaven should I die here. Michael _will_ know,” Castiel hissed. It was a risk talking like that to Samuel, especially here where he had more powers than Castiel, where his grace was locked someplace he couldn’t reach, but everything about the demon made him angry. This was Dean Winchester’s _brother_? Even without the help of his grace, Castiel could see Samuel’s soul. It may have once, a long time ago, been that of an ordinary soul, innocent and bright and not tainted with demon blood, but that was a very distant thing of the past. There was nothing innocent or bright about Samuel’s soul. It was dark and torn and almost unrecognizable. There might be a small light trying to shine through all of the ugliness but it was so small, barely just a sliver it might as well not have existed at all. Samuel was beyond saving. He was too far under the influence of demonic blood, that it made Castiel almost cringe just to be in his presence. 

“This _Michael_ dick...you keep saying his name like it’s supposed to mean something to me. Like I’m supposed to be _scared_ ,” Samuel sneered. 

“You should,” Castiel snapped. “He is one of the archangels of Heaven. He is said to be the strongest angel in all of creation. Even with your powers, you cannot hope to beat him.” It was true as far as Castiel knew. Michael was the strongest angel, stronger than even Lucifer. He just wasn’t sure how far along Samuel’s powers were. Even now, with his grace trapped inside him, he could see and feel and taste Samuel’s powers, ominous tendrils in the dark, burning his vessel’s body as it tried to engulf him like some hungry monstrous thing. 

They stared at each other for another long moment and Castiel decided to take another risk. “Kill me, Samuel, and you won’t hope to ever see your brother again.”

Samuel seemed to stiffen at that, his eyes going just a little wide, and had Castiel not been an angel, he probably wouldn’t have noticed anything had changed in the demon. But it was only for a moment and suddenly Samuel’s eyes narrowed again and he was shoving Castiel back against the wall, his right hand coming up to squeeze around the angel’s neck. “Fine. I won’t kill you. But you’re going to wish I did after I’m through with you,” he hissed, squeezing tighter. Without his grace, Castiel knew he was going to pass out soon due to the lack of air, but Samuel noticed that in time and let him go.

He dropped back to his knees, hunching forward as he coughed and sputtered. Samuel crouched down in front of him and gripped his chin tightly, tipping his head up so he had no choice but to look at him. “You’re going to tell me what you did to Dean. You’re going to tell me how to get him back. I’m giving you one chance to tell me now, right now, and I’ll go easy on punishing you. Or I’ll pull the answer out of you and it’s going to hurt. It’s going to hurt like hell. So what will it be? The easy way or the hard way? You’re going to end up telling me no matter what.”

Castiel debated on his options. Samuel was going to torture him either way but he wasn’t going to give up on Dean Winchester. That had never been in the cards. He glared at the demon and spat, “Bite me.”

Samuel’s eyes flashed black, “Wrong answer.” Both his hands moved up to grip either side of Castiel’s head and before the angel could even wonder what he was doing, the room seemed to glow a blinding white and he was hit on all sides by searing pain, the likes he had never felt before, it seemed like it was trying to rip through his vessel, covering every inch of flesh. He had no idea pain like this could even exist. It got even worse when he felt it surround his grace, and he tried not to scream, tried not to curl in on himself but he couldn’t help it. It was hot and agonizing and endless and Castiel’s very existence seemed to be narrowed to just the feeling like something was trying to rip the grace from his body.

-

Dean was driving the Impala. There were hills and trees and farmlands on either side. The sun was bright and warm and shining down and he had to squint a little to see the road. He wasn’t really sure where he was driving to, but he thought this might look a little like somewhere in Kansas. He glanced over at his sleeping brother sitting in the passenger seat, his head lolling against the window. He couldn’t help but smile as he took in how peaceful the kid looked. They’d just come back from hunting a poltergeist reeking havoc on some poor family so of course Sammy needed his beauty nap. They passed by another house with a truck parked to the side. Dean rolled down the window, letting his elbow hang just enough for him to feel the wind. 

He had to admit, the countryside made for some nice scenery. It was also quieter than the main roads they normally took to get to their next case faster. As far as Dean could remember, they weren’t in a hurry right now. They haven’t decided on another hunt yet. Dean wanted Sam to rest as much as he could. Poor kid’s been through a lot since Dean got him from Stanford. He could still remember Jess burning on the ceiling of his little brother’s dorm, could still see her agonized face as her body burned to charcoal. It had been one of the best (because hello, now he had Sammy) and worst nights of his life. Getting Sam out had been hell though. He practically had to drag the kid out who’d been mostly just a deadweight in his arms. Dean assumed his baby brother had just been in shock. He hadn’t said a word ‘til they made it to the Impala and then he just turned to Dean and nearly crumbled to the ground. He would’ve if Dean hadn’t had years to hone his skills, making him sharper and his reflexes quicker. He caught Sam in an awkward embrace and let Sam cling to his shirt like he was five again and he said, “You came back for me, Dean. You really came back.”

And as he looked over again at his brother, he knew for better or worse, they were together again.


	29. the other side

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! Thanks so much for the comments and kudos. I've read and responded to all the comments from prior chapters. The only warning I can give in this chapter is the perspective change to Dean's. Yes, Dean is still trapped in his head. I hope you enjoy the chapter. :)

“Woah.” Dean was still following the road in the Impala. He hadn’t realized that the sky had darkened and the sun was nowhere to be seen now until he heard the sound of thunder and saw a flash of lightning. It was loud and close and it surprised him enough to swerve sharply to the left. He could hear the loud screech of tires and swore under his breath as he righted the Impala a moment later. Luckily the road was eerily quiet. No cars, no people in sight. Rain started to fall, and he rolled his window up, the roaring sound of it almost deafening. He glanced over quickly at Sam and sighed. Kid was still sleeping like a baby, unaware of the drastic change in weather. He smiled. Sammy could sleep through just about anything these days.

He could still see hills, and every so often, houses. Then there was just empty grassland, and Dean tried not to think about it. They were traveling further away from civilization, he realized after twenty minutes of nothing but trees and grass and the occasional rolling hill. The rain seemed to be coming down faster and louder the longer they stayed on this road. Then he noticed a dark shadow in the distance. It was hard to tell exactly what it was with all the rain, even with the windshield wipers on. As they got closer, Dean was surprised to see that it was a castle - dark and large and seemed entirely out of place, almost completely hidden within miles of trees. But Dean saw it and that was enough to spark his curiosity, to make him stop the Impala on the side of the road.

Part of him knew this was a bad idea, probably. A terrible-no-good-could-probably-get-murdered idea but he wasn’t a Winchester if he didn’t have those sometimes and...he glanced again at Sam who still looked dead to the world (if it hadn’t been for his chest moving as he breathed, Dean might’ve panicked and checked his pulse just in case). Just a small peak wouldn’t hurt, right? He’d check it out, see if the place was safe enough for them to crash the night and then he’d come back for baby and Sammy and if his brother asked why they weren’t at a motel instead, Dean would give him one of those grins that was almost as effective as Sammy’s Puppy Dog eyes, and he’d say, “Thought we’d upgrade tonight.”

He was smiling to himself as he imagined Sammy rolling his eyes, looking all exasperated, and he was already unbuckling his seat-belt and swinging the door of the Impala open. The rain had started to lighten up just a little in the few minutes he’d spent sitting and contemplating what to do. He climbed out and shut the door, watched as Sam didn’t so much as twitch. Kid really worried him sometimes when he slept like that. “Be back in just a minute, Sammy,” he whispered to his brother, knowing full well Sam couldn’t hear him over the roaring of the rain. With that, Dean straightened to his full height, clutching the leather jacket he wore even tighter around him, feeling the chill of the rain and wind against him.

He glanced up at the castle, and then the dark and dense looking forest he’d have to enter to get there. Dean walked around to the trunk of the Impala and grabbed one of the guns, a knife and flashlight, before closing it again and taking a deep breath. “Here goes nothing,” he murmured before entering the ominous forest, flashlight gripped and turned on in his right hand.

The first thing he noticed as he entered was how eerily quiet it was. The sound of the raging storm had stopped almost as soon as he walked in. Shining the flashlight ahead, he could make out a narrow trail leading further into the darkness. He looked behind him and could see the Impala where he left it, could just barely make out Sam’s head leaning against the door as he slept. Rain continued to fall but he couldn’t hear any of it, like the forest was being magically protected from the forces outside of it. For a moment, he found himself just standing there watching, almost like he was caught in a trance. Then suddenly Sam seemed to stir and Dean blinked in surprise, but then he settled back into sleep. Dean took a deep breath, and turned back around. He decided to continue his trek to check the castle out (hopefully it won’t take too long and he’d be back before Sam could wake up).

He wasn’t sure how long he followed the path, but he knew he was definitely deep in the forest by now. When he turned around, he couldn’t see the Impala anymore. Just trees actually. Dean was starting to feel a little anxious now. He wondered briefly if this path that seemed just as out of place as the rest of everything would lead him to the other side. He tried not to dwell on the fact that this whole thing seemed very unusual. Like what was a large, old castle doing in the middle of the countryside anyways? Or how did it start storming so quickly when it was sunny with just a few clouds in the sky just a few minutes prior? And this forest...something seemed to be off about it too. It was so strangely silent. He paused, shining his flashlight around him as he tried to pinpoint what it was that had the hair on the back of his neck pricking up. There was nothing around him. He frowned. He looked behind him as well.

Where were all the animals? The sounds of insects? Anything?

Then suddenly the ground beneath his feet shook, taking him by surprise and he lost his footing and fell on his ass. He groaned at the pain and blinked into the darkness. Grasping blindly for the flashlight, he found it a moment later and turned it back on. When he did, he almost gasped in surprise. He was sitting just a few feet away from a large gate, the bars solid and sturdy and iron. He got back up, nearly stumbling forward before finding his balance. Dean turned to look behind him and the trees swaying slightly with the wind. The rain had stopped, or perhaps on this side, the castle was protected from outside elements. He turned back around to gawk at the impressive sight before him. Old, and large and towering, looking parts abandoned and parts having withstood time, the castle looked straight out of a historic textbook. The gate was large, easily over twelve feet in height, almost just as wide, leading to a large stone bridge that led to the castle itself. There was a large fence-line made of iron surrounding the castle, so that the only entrance was the large gate in the middle. Dean walked up to it, warily looking around. He’d been a hunter all his life and if there was anything his dad was really, really good at it besides being a hunter, it was training his boys to be just as good. 

“ _Never let your guard down, son_ ,” John had told Dean when he turned eleven and he gave him his first pistol as a present. Dean smiled at the memory. He remembered that birthday. He’d learned about monsters a few years prior, by accident really, because John entrusted Dean to watch after his brother, dad would be gone for a couple days and Dean kept asking him ‘why?’ or ‘where are you going, daddy?’ And John just smiled and ruffled his hair and told him not to worry but Dean was only eight so of course he’d worry, especially when his dad would come stumbling back covered in blood and monster gunk and he’d nearly fallen over and Dean was almost in hysterics because he thought dad was dying and he didn’t want him to die because he was dad and he was the best and he was supposed to take care of them.

And John didn’t die, not then, not like that. He woke up a little later and had to calm Dean down enough to tell him how to treat his wounds. John had done all the hard parts like sewing up his nasty deep gashes but it was Dean who had to run around to grab the bucket and put hot water into it and grab the needle and all of that. That day was probably one of the most important days in Dean’s life. It had been the day he went from being just a kid, Sammy’s older brother, to being a man and a hunter and John Winchester’s partner. He learned to keep his mouth shut about monsters to people like the motel people, his friends at school, the teachers, authority figures like the cops who sometimes tried to stop John from speeding, and most importantly, Sammy (because Sammy was innocent and pure and if Dean could just do a good enough job, Sammy would never have to realize that monsters were real, at least not until he was an adult).

Dean’s smile turned a little sad as he remembered the night Sam found out about the truth. Turned out Sam was more perceptive than Dean had given him credit for and his innocence had been ripped from him a year or two before he presented. 

He glanced back up to the castle, gripping his gun and flashlight tighter. “Don’t let your guard down,” he said under his breath as he walked over to the gate. He looked around to find the handle and experimentally gave it a light tug. To his surprise, the gate started to creak open and Dean pulled it again, this time a little harder. The gate eventually swung all the way open and Dean walked through slowly, cautiously.

He brought his gun out in front of him as he continued forward. Nothing jumped out of him. Like the forest, it was oddly silent, the kind that was heavy and uncomfortable and not at all natural. All of Dean’s hunter instincts seemed to be awake as he continued his slow and steady trek over the bridge. He was aware that he was probably being overly paranoid but nothing so far had been even remotely normal. Not the way he’d come here, like he’d been _led _to this place. Like someone or something _wanted_ him here. He finally made it to the large double doors without anything attacking him and Dean found himself breathing a sigh of relief. He looked up to see the large stone doors, painted a dark brown, almost red. This close up, he could see intricate patterns carved into it. There was a woman lying down, naked, and above her was a man standing with a sword clutched in both his hands, ready to bring it down on her head. The man was just as naked but what really stood out to Dean were the large, majestic wings, carved to every small detail. He could see almost every individual feather, like the artist had painstakingly detailed the wings with each hammer of the chisel. The other door had a different carving on it, one of a man crouched down, also naked and with wings, staring up into a large lion with fiery wings.__

____

Dean examined the carvings for another minute, wondering what they meant, before gathering himself and pushing the door open. The large door was heavy but like the gate, it began to creak open as he put his whole weight into it. It moved just enough for him to slip inside. Once inside the castle, the door shut behind him and Dean took a moment to look around. If the outside of the castle was impressive, it was probably more so inside. The castle definitely was able to withstand the passage of time somehow. The floors were made of marble and looked like it had been constructed just a few years ago. Although parts of the exterior of the castle looked like it had been slowly falling apart, once Dean was inside, it was like he’d stepped into a fairy-tale. The large room he was in had a staircase that seemed to spiral upward, the steps made up of large, beautiful stone, none of which looked cracked and worn down from time or use. The room to his right was large and open and had expensive and beautiful furniture decorating it, dark red curtains made of silk hanging over a rectangular window just above a regal looking sofa, the cushions soft and red, gold embroidered on the outside. There were tall, pretty vases on the other side and on the wall just above them was a large picture frame of men in intricate armor, clutching swords, white majestic wings spread like they were getting ready to take off to the skies.

____

Dean was awestruck as he looked around, finding more and more pictures of men and women wearing armor and raising swords, wings spread behind them naturally. He hadn’t noticed he had been walking over to the painting that hung in the center of the room until he started to reach up and touch it. He moved along the wall and saw another painting. The painting showed a man with long blond hair and blue eyes draped in red silk and wearing gold plated armor. His wings spread before him, bright and elegant, his silver sword glinting dangerously in the light. Facing him was a massive lion the color of fire, its eyes narrowed and glowing and three of its tails curling around it protectively. It was stretching back like it was getting ready to pounce. The lion also had wings but it wasn’t white, it was an ominous looking red (the color of fire, of _blood_ ) and surrounding it was this weird dark looking mist, making it look sinister, maybe even _evil_.

____

Dean found himself tracing his fingers on the impressive details of the painting, his eyes lingering a little too long on the lion. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but something about the lion almost seemed familiar.

____

“That is Lucifer.”

____

Dean whirled around, gun and flashlight trained on the newcomer almost immediately. His eyes widened when he took in the sight of the familiar face.

____

“ _Dad_?"

____


	30. michael

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Back again. Not really any warnings except a lot of flashbacks and some descriptions of gore.

Dad smiled back at Dean but something seemed off about it. It was the kind of smile that was warm and polite but it didn’t reach his eyes. It was the kind of smile he usually reserved for strangers as he assessed them, gauging to see if they were a threat to Sam or Dean. “Not quite,” Dad (or whatever was pretending to be dad) said. He looked Dean up and down and took a step closer. 

Dean immediately took a step back. “If you’re not my dad, who the hell are you?” He knew there had been something off about this whole place.

The thing wearing dad’s face frowned but sighed when Dean didn’t move a muscle. The gun was still trained on the thing’s face. “My name is Michael,” the thing said finally.

Dean waited for more clarification but the thing that wasn’t dad, Michael, just stood there. Annoyed, Dean said, “Great. Your name’s Michael. _What_ are you?”

Michael’s lips quirked in a smile. “One of the four _Archangels_ of Heaven.” Dean could practically hear the capital ‘A’.

He wanted to laugh. “There’s no such thing as angels, pal,”he said instead. He was about ready to shoot the dick in the face at this point. Wearing _John Winchester_ ’s face of all people? Like what the fuck? 

“But there is such a thing,” Michael said. He took another step forward and Dean found himself stepping back again to put more space between them. “I am not lying. I would _never_ lie to you, Dean Winchester.”

“How the hell do you know who I am?” Dean demanded, getting even more agitated.

Michael tilted his head, something that looked strange when he was wearing John Winchester’s face. “Who _doesn’t_ know who you are?”

Dean blinked, not sure how to respond to that. Okay, there were some monsters that probably knew the Winchesters but Dean hadn’t started hunting by himself until Sam left for Stanford and John disappeared on them. The Winchester with the reputation belonged to his dad, not him. “Look, whatever you want, I think you’ve got the wrong Winchester,” Dean told the monster.

Michael’s eyes seemed to soften as he watched Dean. His smile turned almost sad. “Actually I’ve got the right Winchester,” he said, taking yet another step toward Dean. “You just don’t have all of your memories.” He reached out to touch Dean’s face.

Dean would’ve taken another step back but his back was already against the wall. Panicked, he aimed the gun at the monster’s head. “Step back or I’ll shoot,” he growled. His hands shook slightly as he held the gun tightly.

Michael didn’t move. “You can’t kill me, Dean. I’m an Archangel.”

“Yeah, yeah, you already said that,” Dean said, before pulling the trigger twice. The sound of the gun going off echoed loudly in Dean’s ears. He watched as his dad’s body fell to the floor in slow motion. 

_“Move, Dean. Get away from him.”_

Dean blinked. His dad’s body twitched.

_“What the fuck are you doing to your brother and how the fuck did you move my gun, Sammy?”_

Dean shook his head. Had that been dad’s voice? His head was starting to hurt and he reached up to grip it. At the same time, his dad’s hand started to twitch again and Dean watched in horror as Michael started to sit up. That was impossible. He’d shot the thing in the head at point blank range twice. There was a noticeable hole in the middle of his forehead and blood was oozing out. There was no way anything could survive that unless...unless it was maybe a demon.

Michael just smiled and to Dean’s astonishment, the wound was beginning to heal. “See, Dean? You can’t kill me.”

Dean swallowed. “Are you a demon?”

The reaction he got to that was immediate. Michael’s eyes flashed a bright blue and he spat, “ _No_! I’m the furthest thing from one of those abominations. I told you. I am the Archangel, Michael.”

“Yeah. Right. Angel,” Dean said, a little startled by Michael’s sudden change in attitude. He licked his lips nervously, as he watched as Michael stood up again like he hadn’t just been shot. “So, uh, what exactly would an archangel want with me?”

Michael sighed. “We don’t have a lot of time for me to explain everything before you have to go back.”

“Okay, just give me the cliff-notes then,” Dean said. When the angel stared at him, Dean cleared his throat and clarified, “The short version. Give me the short version of whatever is so important.”

“Very well. You’re my vessel, Dean. My _true_ vessel,” Michael told him.

Dean blinked, a little dumbfounded. “Excuse me?”

“You know how ‘possession’ works, don’t you?”

“Well, yeah. Like ghost or demon possession? So, what, you’re meant to possess _me_?” Dean demanded.

“Yes, something like that,” Michael said. “Look, I can’t do it without your consent.”

“And you think I’d give you my consent?” Dean asked. “Are you seriously an angel?”

Michael’s eyes flashed again, and Dean could feel the room grow cooler. “I am an angel. And you will say ‘yes’, Dean.”

“And why the hell would I give up my body? To _you_?” Dean demanded.

“Because it’s destiny, Dean. Do you see that painting behind you?” Michael asked, pointing to the painting of the angel and the lion. Dean glanced up at it before looking back at Michael. He nodded warily. “That is Lucifer. He used to be an angel, one of my _brothers_. You may know him as The Devil. One of his many forms is that of a giant fiery lion. But he also has a true vessel like me.”

“Oh yeah?” Dean asked, tensing up. He didn’t like the way Michael had trailed off, his lips pursed in thought. He couldn’t explain why but something in the pit of his stomach started to clench. He felt like he already knew the answer somehow. But he still had to hear it. “Who’s that?”

“Your brother,” Michael said.

That couldn’t be. Dean shook his head, even though a part of him wasn’t surprised to hear the answer. “No. You got it wrong, pal. My brother isn’t meant to be Lucifer.”

And boy did this sound like a familiar conversation. 

_“My name is Castiel, Dean. I am an angel.”_

_“When was the last time you stepped outside?”_

_“So you don’t know what your brother’s been doing.”_

_There was blood, lots of blood and guts and body parts and fire and smoke and crumbling buildings and abandoned cars and screaming and the smell of charred bones and human flesh and he was back in New York City. Standing in the midst of the panic and chaos and death, somehow, he knew deep down this was New York. Or what was left of it. And Sammy. Sammy with his serene smile and his warm eyes and he was riding on top of a large armored horse. This was Sammy, his baby brother, the kid Dean raised since he’d been six months. No. No way. This wasn’t possible. He knew this kid. He didn’t have a single evil bone in him._

_The scenery shifted and he saw another version of himself and the angel in the trench-coat, Castiel, sitting on a bench overlooking a park._

_“Sorry if I don’t believe you,” other Dean said, “but look, man, my brother can’t possibly do any of this.”_

_“No, not normally,” Castiel said, “but Dean, these are not normal times. Your brother has demon blood in him. That can change a person at their core.”_

Dean gasped. He was starting to get more flashbacks. “You’re lying,” he said through gritted teeth. “You’re _putting_ those images in my head.” Sam was not Lucifer. Not the bratty kid Dean grew up with. 

“Those are your memories coming back to you, Dean,” Michael told him, his voice a little sad, and Dean fucking hated it. “Castiel’s grace is working over-time.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” Dean growled.

“It means we really don’t have much time left. Castiel was able to instill just a drop of his grace into you and it is trying to reconstruct you as we speak.”

“English, please,” Dean said, getting even more annoyed.

“You’re going to regain all of your memories soon, whether you want to or not,” Michael replied. “Look, when you get back, you need to tread carefully. You’re in danger, Dean. Your brother might not be fully evil yet, but he has the potential to be. He is Lucifer’s vessel. And if the demons find a way to resurrect Lucifer from hell, there is no doubt in my mind Samuel will say yes.”

“How can you say that about Sam? How can you say that about _your_ own brother so casually?”

Michael’s eyes flashed and narrowed at Dean. “I don’t say anything about Lucifer _casually_. But he betrayed us and fell into the Pit for a reason, Dean. He doesn’t care about anything other than himself and when he rises, because he will, he will find Samuel Winchester and take him as his vessel and bring the destruction of everything you know and love.” 

“Say I believe you and the devil is real, and Sam just happens to be his vessel...do you really expect me to believe that Sam’s going to cave and say ‘yes’ and let him wear him to the prom?” Dean demanded.

Before Michael could reply, there was a blinding flash of light and Dean had to squeeze his eyes shut. He opened his eyes after a moment to see Michael crouched in front of him. “What the fuck is going on?” he asked the angel.

“You’re about to wake up. Tread lightly, Dean. Samuel is not what he seems. Also, look for the angel, Castiel.”

“Thanks. Any other words of wisdom you’d like to share before I have to return to Kansas?” Dean asked sarcastically.

“You’re going to say ‘yes’ to me, Dean. You can’t fight destiny. Neither of you can.”

Before Dean could come up with something witty, his vision started to blur. The room started to go dark and the angel was gone. Just like that. He closed his eyes.

Then jolted awake to see Sam hovering over him looking worried out of his mind. Dean blinked, realizing he was laying on the bed, his arms above his head. He tried to move them but found them shackled to the headboard above him. He swallowed, trying to adjust to the new yet familiar surroundings. Sam was frowning at him, reaching out to touch him. Dean couldn’t help the flinch. His brother must’ve noticed because he dropped his hand.

Something deep in Dean clenched.

“Dean?” Sam’s voice was hesitant and small and so like his brother and yet…

_“I’m not trying to be funny here, pal. I don’t fucking know you. What the fuck? Is that your dick in my ass? Why the hell are you in me? Get out!”_

_“You’re not Sam. You’re not him. Sam wouldn’t do this.”_

_“Who are you?”_

_“I am your brother.”_

Dean gasped as he was assaulted by images. Of Sam. Of himself.

_“I’m not going to lie to you, Dean, you’re really pretty and tempting right now. Well, all the time.”_

Sam was on top of him, his whole weight pressed against Dean, and he felt like he was going to suffocate. _“I love you, Dean. I’ll always love you.”_ And all Dean could do was lay there and wait and let Sam do whatever the hell he wanted, because Sam was the Alpha. He’d turned Dean into an Omega. His own brother. 

_“You know I’ve been in love with you since we were kids.”_

It was too much, too fast. But the images kept coming regardless. Images of Sam, his Sammy, rocking into him, splitting him open from the inside, and Dean, Dean had been helpless, powerless. To stop any of it.

_“If Sam says yes to Lucifer, he’ll bring the end of the world.”_

_“Actually Dean, you’re the only one who can do something.”_

But _how_? Dean was obviously a fuck up. He couldn’t stop Sam even if he wanted to. Hell, he couldn’t even stop his own _rape_. He hadn’t realized his body had been shaking until he felt Sam’s hand gently stroking his hair, and his voice shushing him and whispering, “It’s okay, Dean. You’re safe now. I’m right here, big brother. I’m not going anywhere. Shh, it’s okay.” 

Dean was too exhausted to stop the sob from escaping as Michael’s distant words rang in his ears.

“You’re going to say _yes_ to me, Dean. You can’t fight destiny. Neither of you can.”


	31. two halves of a whole

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for the comments and kudos. I'll be responding to everyone as soon as I put this chapter up. Honestly this wasn't supposed to become some kind of Apocalypse story but I guess I just can't help myself. Hope you guys have been enjoying how deep this story has become. The only warnings I have are the POV shifts, we're getting back into Sam's head, and there are some flashbacks from when he was with Azazel. Next chapter will have more Dean. I promise!

Sam had never seen Dean look so tired before. Sure there were times, before, when they’d come back from a hunt and he and Dean would just stagger into the motel and plop on the bed, completely _wiped_. But Dean would just roll to his side to face Sam and he’d have a grin on his face that showed while he was still in pain from whatever thing had torn into him or thrown him against the wall (for the tenth time), he’d get through it. He always did. _They_ always did. 

But this time, Dean wasn’t smiling. And his eyes, the brief amount of time they connected with Sam’s, they looked tired and old. Dean was shaking and Sam moved without thinking because this was his brother and he loved him more than the whole world. His fingers curled into Dean’s hair and started to gently stroke and Dean’s breath hitched and it almost sounded like he was crying and Sam didn’t quite understand why but it was going to be okay now, right? He was here. He’d always be here. _Don’t cry. Please don’t cry, big brother._ “It’s okay, Dean,” he found himself whispering, “You’re safe now. I’m right here, big brother. I’m not going anywhere. Shh, it’s okay.”

That seemed to only worsen the situation. Like his touch had opened the dam so to speak. And for just a second, Sam felt himself freeze. His brother, his big tough brother who rarely ever showed signs of vulnerability was crying. Then he was moving his hand again, smoothing his hair back gently. He would help Dean move past this, whatever it was. They stayed like that for a little while. Sam wasn’t quite sure how long but it’d been enough for his brother’s sobs to start to become quieter and his breathing to even out again. When he glanced over, he could see Dean’s eyes had fallen shut and Sam found himself frozen in place behind his brother, because Dean always looked so serene and beautiful when he slept. Almost...almost _angelic._

Sam wanted to reach over and trace his brother’s face. He wanted to run his thumb gently against the faint traces of tear tracks staining his brother’s beautiful cheeks. It took all of his self control to break his gaze away and roll to the other side of the bed. He sat on the edge, facing completely away from Dean. This was...this was what he wanted, right? His beautiful, perfect brother laying in bed, underneath Sam. This was the very thing he’d dreamt about for years. Since before Stanford. Before Jess. Before even presenting as an Alpha. He’d been in love with Dean for so long. Had watched and learned and followed Dean like a lost puppy since grade school, since he knew how to walk. 

_What are you waiting for then? Take him. You’ve done it so many times before. Why hesitate now? Just because he’s shed a few tears? Haven’t you ever seen Dean cry before?_

Of course he had. He remembered when he’d been six years old, and Dean was ten. Somehow Dean had managed to get himself a skateboard and he was showing it off in the parking lot in front of a motel they’d been staying at. Dad had been on a hunt and said he wouldn’t be back for a few days and Dean had been so bored babysitting...Sam remembered waking up to Dean’s excited shout of, “SAMMY! SAMMY! Look what I got!” And Sam, dumb and easily excitable, jumped off the bed and stared at the skateboard in Dean’s arm (the thing was almost as tall as Dean) and he made this ‘hurry up’ gesture, demanding Sam to put some shoes on because they were going outside. A few jumps and ‘tricks’ later that awed Sam, Dean decided to be really stupid and try to flip it on one of the rails in the back of the parking lot. The flip didn’t go as smooth as Dean had planned and he came crashing down hard, landing on his right knee. Sam never knew Dean could wail so hard, his cheeks red and puffy and his eyes watering with unshed tears.

It hadn’t been the only time. Dean would get injured a lot on hunts and he wouldn’t always be able to control the tears of pain. It didn’t matter your destination sometimes, if it hurt, it fucking hurt. Hell, even John Winchester sometimes would hiss in pain, his face screwed up and red and there’d be a couple tears falling down his cheek. He’d seen it once, when he decided to take both boys on a poltergeist hunt. Thing threw John so hard, they nearly had to take him to a hospital. If it hadn’t been for all the fake insurance cards and IDs back at the motel, they damn well would’ve. Luckily, Dean knew Bobby’s number by memory and they’d been in the same state as Pastor Jim so Bobby told them to get a hold of him.

But that was different. That had been pain induced. Dean...this didn’t come from physical pain. It looked like it came from somewhere deeper. Somewhere so deep that Sam couldn’t even reach. He’d never seen his brother like this before. So tired and ages older, like the weight of the world rested on his shoulders. He looked down at his hands. He wanted to shake Dean awake and ask him what was wrong and how he could fix it, how he could make him happy. Because that was what he wanted, right? He wanted Dean to feel happy and cherished and loved and protected. He wanted Dean safe. He wanted Dean to understand all the things that he was doing, that he was doing all this for Dean. Because Dean was everything he had. Dean was the _only_ thing he had. He never had a mom. He never had a dad. He never had friends. He never had anyone...but Dean.

He found himself glancing behind him, to Dean’s sleeping, prone form. “I broke the world for you, Dean,” he said quietly, just under his breath. He stood up and watched for another minute as Dean continued to sleep. It always fascinated Sam how physically changed Dean looked when he was unconscious. He looked younger and beautiful, his face unmarred by the stress of the job. The tenseness in his muscles gone and his body, normally defensive and guarded seemed to relax just a little. But what really fascinated Sam the most was probably what was inside Dean, radiating so brightly it might as well be daylight out. As Sam’s powers grew, he’d noticed more and more that he could see things normal people probably couldn’t. It started with small stuff, like small tendrils of darkness that seemed to follow people around, some bigger and thicker and more solid around certain people than others, hovering around like some nightmarish thing trying to suffocate the person. People never seemed to notice though, just continued their day with these shadowy mists like it was normal.

Sam learned early on no one could see them except him and he’d kept quiet or else he’d be labeled as a freak. Not that it mattered any now. He’d long since embraced the darkness that shrouded the world. Everyone had a darkness inside them. Since he’d taken up that offer with Azazel, he finally realized that what he saw had been people’s souls, tainted, corrupted by the sins of crimes they’ve committed. The darker and thicker the darkness was, the more wrong they’ve done and they’d get their one way ticket downstairs sooner rather than later.

But Dean had been different. His darkness was barely there, just a tiny little orb that followed him around, so very out of place. His soul was so bright, it was like it _scared_ the darkness.

_“Look at you, Sammy. You’re just oozing with all kinds of untapped potential, like an endless well of darkness. Don’t you want to learn what you can do?”_

Azazel, while wrongly thinking he could so easily manipulate Sam into giving into his powers and eventually seek Lucifer for more, had his uses. He’d helped Sam learn to harness some of his powers, like telekinesis, but there were so many more things Sam could do than a demon so even he was stumped and after just a few short months, Sam decided Azazel was probably more trouble than he was worth.

_“You can’t control me anymore, Azazel. You never could. Don’t you get it? I’m stronger than you. I always have been. No more ‘helping’ me. I’ll call you when I need you.”_

Azazel didn’t seem afraid. He never did. The slimy bastard. But he kept his distance until Sam called for him.

_“Hiya, Sammy, or well, would you like me to call you ‘Boy King’?”_

He closed his eyes, remembering the first month into the deal.

_“Oh, Sammy, such a beautiful child, aren’t you? Knew you were the one from the very beginning, kiddo. It had to be you. There was no one else,” Azazel said, his hand gripping Sam’s shoulder so tightly Sam had to grit his teeth._

_“Is that right? You fucking knew it’d be me so you made my life a living hell?” Sam growled, trying to stop his rage from building. He closed his eyes and an image of mom on the ceiling flashed before his eyes._

_“It’s your fault, Sammy,” Mary told him, eyes burning with fire and smoke and her flesh slowly peeling away. “If you haven’t been born, if I never gave birth to you, I’d still be alive!”_

_Sam didn’t even have time to process what was happening when the next image flashed. Jess. Smoke. Fire. Coughing and gagging. Dead, accusing eyes staring down at Sam like he was the very devil himself. “You’re a coward,” her corpse hissed. “You couldn’t just face who you really are and now I had to pay the price! You’re a sick freak, Sam. You’re so obsessed with your brother that you had to try and run away here. To Stanford. And you fucking ruined my life, you sicko! You killed me! All because you wanted to fuck your big brother like the twisted, monster you try to pretend you aren’t.”_

Sam tried to open his eyes but couldn’t, gasping as more memories assaulted him. He felt himself slide down to the floor, just outside the bedroom, his hands gripping either side of his head. He could still see Jess on the ceiling, accusing him of those terrible things.

_But, Sammy, aren’t those terrible accusations true?_

Sam shook his head. _No, no, no._

_No? You’re not a sicko who likes to fuck your brother? You still think you’re this tragic hero and poor, little Deano’s your precious damsel in distress? Open your eyes, Sammy. Come on._

He tried. Really tried. But it was like his eyes were glued shut. “I, I can’t,” he said through gritted teeth.

_You can, Sammy. I know you can. Open your eyes._

“But I can’t,” he repeated, trying again and failing again. It was like a part of him didn’t want to, but...but why? He didn’t understand.

Then...then the little voice, shifted, _morphed_. _Open your fucking eyes, Sammy. It’s time to face the music, man. Face who you’re supposed to be. Who **we’re** supposed to be!_

It…”Dean?” Sam’s eyes opened wide and he stared up at the ceiling in horror.

Dean was staring down at him, blond hair and green eyes, lips quirked in a smile (but it was wrong, all wrong because it held none of the warmth that it usually had, it was cold, frigid, a smirk reserved for _monsters_ he was about to hack off). And, and...Dean’s clothes were all wrong. He was wearing golden plated armor and a red cape was flowing behind him and clenched in his hands was a giant sword, beautiful and deadly, the hilt long and solid and a dark blue. Crystals were interwoven into the metal. 

“My name is Michael, Sammy. And you’re going to die. But not before you say yes to the Devil.” And Michael raised his sword high into the air, right above Sam.

Sam woke up with a jolt.

-

“Are you ready, Michael?”

Michael opened his eyes with a smile. He turned to his trusted brother, Raphael. “Yes. I just sent a message to Samuel.”

“And?”

“He received it. Did the demon, Azazel, talk?”

Raphael nodded. “Just as you expected, sir. He broke in less than three days. He told us everything.”

“And you’re sure?”

“Naomi can be quite persuasive. You know that, sir.”

Michael nodded. “Yes, she can be. Let us go then. We’ll take the best soldiers in the garrison. Castiel had failed to retrieve my vessel and destroy Lucifer’s but that was to be expected. I don’t want Samuel to die before I can have my fight with my brother anyways.”

“How are we going to resurrect Lucifer? Samuel derailed your original plans and John Winchester is not exactly cooperating in hell. You realize that leaves Dean Winchester.”

“I know,” Michael said. It pained him to use Dean Winchester like this but his fight with Lucifer had to take precedent over his chosen vessel. If Dean Winchester could survive the torture his brother put him through, he was sure once all of this was finally over and he could kill Lucifer once and for all, Dean would be able to forgive him. Besides, now that he had a little taste of the kind of betrayal Michael felt when Lucifer chose to fall, he was sure it wouldn’t take much to convince the human to say _yes_.

Destiny couldn’t be stopped. The Apocalypse was always meant to happen and Michael and Lucifer had always meant to face each other.


	32. it's all coming back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys...so you might notice some tags added. Seeing as how we're *nearing* the end, I didn't want to mislead anyone. As always thank you for the kudos and comments. Thank you for all of you guys who have stuck this far. There's probably going to be 4-5 more chapters. I wrote part of the very last chapter.

_“Once upon a time, there lived this really happy family. Like there was a mom, a dad and two brothers-”_

_“Dean, come on. Are you going to tell me this story again?”_

_Dean chuckled and elbowed Sammy in the side. “Ow! Jerk!”_

_“You wanted a bedtime story, didn’t you?”_

_“Yeah, but-”_

_“Then just shut up and let me tell it. Anyways, so there was this really happy family, right? And then one day the house burned down and the mom didn’t make it-”_

_“But dad was really brave and tried to save mom, right?”_

_“Yeah, he tried his hardest, Sammy. Now are you going to let me tell you the rest?”_

_“Fine. Go ahead, I won’t interrupt anymore. Promise, Dean.”_

_“Yeah, okay. Whatever. So the dad was really brave and tried to save the mom but it was too late. But...but not for the brothers. The dad picked up the baby from his crib and put him in the older brother’s arms and told him to run and don’t look back. ‘Whatever you do, don’t look back.’ That’s what the dad said. And, and the brother ran as fast as he could and he got out of the house just in time.”_

_“And...and did the dad make it out? Dean, did he?” Sam asked, voice small._

_“Yeah, of course. Of course, he made it out, Sammy. This is..you know I never told you this part,” Dean cleared his throat and Sam sat up, eyes wide and staring up at Dean, waiting, watching, like what he was going to say next was the most important thing in the world. “This is the story about...what happened that night. To us. This is about us, Sam. Dad swooped us into his arms and carried us the rest of the way to safety that night and, and he’s a hero. He’s a hero, Sammy. Don’t forget it.”_

_He remembered that night, telling Sammy how much of a hero dad was. The room morphed and he was in another motel, sitting on the foot of the bed, Sammy, a little older and a little taller, just turned thirteen, was next to him._

_“I don’t get it, Dean.”_

_He turned to look at his baby brother. Wondered briefly when he grew so big and tall, where that chubby, innocent twelve year old went (changed into an Alpha, his mind provided oh so helpfully). “What don’t you get, Sammy?”_

_“It’s Sam now, Dean,” Sam corrected, puffing his chest out. Like he was posturing. Dean found it cute. Kid hadn’t outgrown him just yet. Couldn’t beat him in all those sparring matches they’ve had since John decided Sam was old enough to go on hunts with them. “And what I don’t get is why you love dad so much.”_

_The question threw him for a loop. “Uh, what?”_

_“Why do you love him so much, Dean? He’s a jerk. All he does is make us hunt. We keep moving from one stupid motel to another because of all these monsters he says he has to hunt down. He doesn’t care about us. He’s-”_

_“Shut up, Sam,” he hadn’t realized he’d raised his voice until he saw Sam, wide hazel eyes staring at him in a mix of awe and shock. He swallowed, he didn’t like the look on Sam’s face. But he was already here now and he had to make Sam understand what he was saying wasn’t right. “You don’t understand. You might not ever understand. But dad’s trying his best, okay? ‘Course he cares about us. He’s a goddamn hero. Sure, we don’t live in an actual house, but what he’s doing, Sammy...he’s doing something important.”_

_They were silent for a moment. Then, “I hate him.”_

_“Don’t...say that. You don’t mean it.”_

_“Yeah. Yeah I do.”_

_The room changed once more and suddenly he was outside. Not outside a motel though. They were standing in a cemetery. He glanced down and saw ‘In loving memories. Mary Winchester. 1954 - 1983.’ He took a step back in surprise._

_“It’s fitting, isn’t it, Dean?” Sam’s voice was soft, but Dean could hear it easily. He stared at his brother as Sam slowly turned around. His eyes were the color of blood and his lips were quirked in a smirk. “Mary Winchester, and next to her is dearest John.”_

_He glanced down quickly to the gravestone on the other side. Sure enough, it read ‘John Winchester. 1954 - 2005.’ He stumbled back, falling on his ass, as Sam walked closer. “I wouldn’t step back any further if I were you, Dean-o.”_

_Dean froze. Something compelled him to turn around and instantly, he wished he didn’t. Behind him was a deep, open grave. A tombstone already read ‘Here lies Dean Winchester. 1979 - 2005.’ There was an open casket below. And if he squinted his eyes, he thought he might have seen something alive and wriggling down there. He looked back up at Sam, swallowing._

_Sam’s smile widened, revealing sharp, white teeth. “I’m going to kill you, Dean-o, and I’m so going to enjoy it.”_

_“You’re not Sam,” Dean said when he finally got his mouth to work properly._

_“No, I’m not,” Sam agreed. He crouched down in front of Dean and tipped his chin up so that Dean had no choice but to stare into his blood, red eyes. “But Sammy’s in here with me. He says ‘hi’.”_

_Then he pushed him into the hole and Dean was falling and falling, the ground swallowing him up like it was alive and hungry. It happened so fast and for a panicked second, he couldn’t work his voice to even scream._

Dean jerked awake, hair matted down in sweat. He yanked his hand, momentarily forgetting they were both cuffed above his head to the headboard, and groaned at the pain. “Fuck,” he muttered to himself, just as the door to the bedroom opened and Sam came rushing over. “Sam?” he asked, blearily blinking as the stream of light from the hallway found its way into the darkened room.

“Shit, Dean. I heard you screaming,” Sam said, his voice strained. He didn’t look that great either. His eyes were a little too wide and bright, his face red, lips were practically trembling. 

“Did you?” he asked. He waited for Sam to nod, then he sighed and let his head drop back down to the soft pillow. “You don’t look so hot yourself.”

Sam was silent for a moment and Dean turned his head, figuring he wasn’t going to get an answer. But then Sam said, “Had a bad dream.”

“Oh yeah?” _Try living it, asshole._

“Yeah,” Sam said, climbing onto the bed. Dean stiffened as Sam put an arm over his side and cuddled up to him. It reminded him too much of the time when they were kids, and Sammy climbed into bed after a nightmare and Dean wrapped his arms around his brother, trying to comfort him. “Remember this, Dean?” Sam’s whisper broke Dean from the childhood memory. He gritted his teeth. Course he remembered. But Sam was tainting that memory. “You used to do this when I had a bad dream. You’d spoon up against me, like this, and we’d lay there. I would be crying like a goddamn baby, you know? But you...you’d just stroke my hair and say stuff like, ‘It’s okay, Sammy. Everything’s going to be fine.’ Guess it’s my turn, huh, big bro?”

 _No. It really isn’t._ “We’re not kids anymore, Sam,” Dean murmured. “Get off me.” Sam didn’t seem to hear him, or he was ignoring Dean. It frustrated Dean, especially with his memories coming back. This was his brother. His baby brother who he cherished like his own. “Seriously, get off me.” He tried to kick him but he was under the blanket and Sam was on top and his arms were cuffed above him and Sam was incredibly, _impossibly_ strong.

“Shh, it’s okay, Dean,” Sam was nuzzling his face into his hair and Dean wanted to puke. He didn’t want Sam to touch him but he was powerless to stop his brother. 

“Come on, dude. I’m fine,” Dean tried, his voice hoarse. He tried to shrug Sam off but Sam wasn’t going anywhere, instead his grip just tightened and the temperature in the room seemed to drop. It was enough to make Dean freeze. He squeezed his eyes shut, hoping this was just another nightmare and he’d wake up to find himself sitting in the Impala with Sam snoozing next to him. He opened his eyes but nothing changed. “You’re hurting me, Sam.”

“If you’d just relax, this would feel so much better,” Sam said, though the grip on his side loosened.

 _Yeah. Right._ Like it was his fault Sam was hurting him. Dean tried to curl his body to get away from him but Sam didn’t seem to take the hint. He moved with Dean, like he was trying to fit into him like a jigsaw puzzle. “I love you, Dean,” Sam whispered. His warm fingers were gently rubbing up and down Dean’s arm. Dean recognized the motion as something he used to do with Sam when they were kids. 

_“Dean! Dean! I thought I saw something in the window,” Sammy dove under the blanket as another lightning flashed._

_Dean sighed and got up to close the curtains. Then he climbed back into bed and held Sam to his chest. Kid was seven now, and he’d been terrified of the storm. Couldn’t blame Sammy. He was shaking in his arms, so Dean started to gently stroke his hair while whispering, “It’s gonna be okay, Sammy. Nothing’s out there. It’s just a storm.”_

_“Really?” Sammy asked, eyes big and wide. Dean just nodded. “Can I sleep with you tonight? Please?”_

_Dean rolled his eyes but smiled. “Sure, Sammy.” Sam smiled and they both lay there as Dean hummed ‘Hey, Jude’ under his breath._

“You remember that night when I snuck into bed with you because of the thunderstorm?” Sam was murmuring. His breath was a hot gust of air on his ear and he couldn’t help but shiver. He imagined Sam smiling behind him as he pulled Dean closer. “You hummed ‘Hey, Jude’ til I fell asleep. I think that might’ve been the first time I truly knew my feelings for you went beyond just being brothers.”

Dean had to suppress the shudder. Sammy - innocent and pure little seven year old Sammy. “You were just a kid, Sam. You were scared of the storm and I provided some semblance of protection. That’s all,” Dean told him.

But Sam was shaking his head. “No, that wasn’t all. I love you, Dean, always have. You’ve meant more to me than mom, than dad, even Jess.”

“Don’t say that. You don’t mean it. You’ve always loved Jess. She was the girl you were going to settle with before Yellow Eyes killed her. And I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for that, but you can’t want me. Not like that.” He started to struggle again but Sam wouldn’t let go of him. “Come on. Seriously. Get off me. You just need some help, Sam.” He realized he was starting to ramble at this point. It sometimes happened when he started to feel nervous. Sam wouldn’t let go of him, even as he tried to yank his arm from his grasp.

“Why do you think I can’t want you, Dean?” Sam asked, tightening his grip so hard Dean winced at the pain. He was sure there were going to be bruise marks on his arm.

“Because it’s wrong,” Dean said, gritting his teeth.

“ _How_? What’s so wrong about it? Because we’re _brothers_? It doesn’t matter, Dean. Remember? You’re an Omega now. It doesn’t matter if we’re blood related. Biology trumps blood relation. And it would only really matter if one of us were to get pregnant.” Sam paused for a moment. “You don’t want to get pregnant, do you, Dean?” Dean froze at the idea of becoming pregnant. Never in a million years. And certainly not with Sam. His brother. He shook his head wildly. “What? Don’t like the idea of carrying your little brother’s baby? Can’t you just imagine, Dean? Standing barefoot in the kitchen, that belly of yours all big and swollen.” No, he didn’t want to imagine that. It’d be one of his worst nightmares come to life. 

“No, Sam, come on. You know we’re not even father material,” Dean pleaded. “Just let me go. If you love me as much as you claim, you’ll let me go. You’ll let me help you through this. It’s not too late, Sam. I swear. We can put this all behind us and we’ll find a way to save you. You just have to let me go. Please.”

_Sammy, don’t make me have to kill you. Don’t let those damn angels be right. You’re not evil. You’re my brother and I can save you. Just let me save you._

“Just let me go, Sam. I love you, bro, but not in the way you want. And, and I remember _everything_ ,” Dean finally confessed.

Sam seemed to freeze.


	33. sammy, the well loved

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, all! Back and still working on the story. I know it's shorter than all the other ones but I just wanted to post this and say that I am alive and I am not discontinuing this story. I am still working on it! I'll be reading and replying to all the comments on the previous chapter. I'm sorry it's taken so long but like I said, I'm still working on it. You guys have not been forgotten and thank you sooo much for hanging in there with me. Your support has been much appreciated!!

“I didn’t get turned at some bar, drunk off my ass. Did I, Sam? _You_ did this to me. Against my will.” Dean’s voice was quiet, just barely over a whisper but in the silence, it was deafening, like thunder. Sam went completely still, his grip on Dean’s arm loose enough that if his brother wasn’t so completely focused on shredding every last one of Sam’s tenuous grasp on happiness that he would realize he could have easily slipped out. But no, Dean kept going, unaware of what his sharp words said in such a matter of fact tone was doing to Sam. He started to chuckle, a sound that would normally fill Sam’s heart with joy in hearing. But this, god, this sounded so desperate, so unhappy, like Dean was reaching the end of his rope and he had no idea how else to act. This fucking hurt. “Fuck. You’re my brother. I _trusted_ you. I trusted you to have my back, man, and you, fuck, you _betrayed_ me.” The words might have been daggers, aimed at Sam’s heart, Dean on the other side as he thrust it all the way in and _twisted_. He couldn’t see his brother’s face. Couldn’t see what he looked like. But he could imagine. 

Dean’s face twisted in disappointment, in hurt and betrayal, looking at Sam like he was a monster. 

It was his worst nightmare come to life. 

He’d seen pieces of it in the weeks, months, he’d kept his brother here. But it didn’t hurt nearly as much because Sam knew he could just rewrite Dean’s memories. Dean didn’t like what he had done to him. Fine. That memory would be erased. Gone. Just like that. He’d save Dean from freaking out. Instead Dean would be looking at Sam like he hung the moon. He’d have Dean’s love, maybe a little more exaggerated than normal, maybe a little twisted and fake, but he was still Dean where it counted. He loved Sam fiercely, forgave him easily, protected him at all cost. And Sam, fuck, Sam would go to the end of earth to keep his brother. He’d fight heaven. He’d rule hell. He’d give into the demon blood, his darker side. Against everyone who dared to warn him, who dared tried to use him. He stood up to the likes of John Winchester and Azazel. 

He wished his brother wouldn’t say anything else, but of course Dean never liked to listen to him. “You have to let me go, Sam.” Even worse, he started to twist around so that he was facing Sam and now he had no choice but to stare at his brother’s face. His brother’s pleading face.

Dean had the most vibrant green eyes Sam had ever seen. And those freckles that covered his face made him look young and vulnerable and beautiful. Sam could easily count the freckles on his face from here.

“I know we’ve got some bad blood between us and I can’t promise I’ll be able to forgive you for what you did to me right away, but I can promise you that I’ll try. Okay? I’ll fucking try my damnedest and we’ll get you help and when all this blows over, maybe we can be brothers again but you have to let me go first.”

Dean really should just shut the hell up. He didn’t know what he was talking about anyway. There wasn’t anything to forgive really. Maybe Sam used his demonic mojo to wipe Dean’s memories but that was for Dean’s own good. He didn’t need Dean freaking out over spilled milk. Turning his brother into an Omega was good for everyone. Dean got to be with Sam, safe and happy. This was what it really came down to.

Right?

“Why don’t you say something?” Dean asked when Sam continued to just stare at him, torn between wanting to tell him off because he had no fucking clue what he was saying and blurting out that he loved him and would always love him and there was nothing Dean could possibly do to change that fact. It seemed to piss Dean off because finally, finally his face twisted into anger, and he tried to knee Sam in the crotch but his legs were still tangled enough in the sheets that Sam was able to press into Dean’s thighs and halt his attack with a pained hiss. “Fuck you. Say something you sorry son of a bitch!” There was something spiteful and twisted in Dean’s voice, like a man on the edge of a cliff. Sam, the only thing between Dean and certain death. Sam could pull his brother back to the safety of even ground, far away from the edge. He wanted to do that, god, he wanted to help his brother. He didn’t enjoy the look on his face. 

All he ever wanted was for Dean to be happy. But what Dean wanted was a lie. A sham. He wanted Sam to apologize, he wanted Sam to let him go. But why? Sam had nothing to apologize for. Why couldn’t Dean see that? And why would he let Dean go when he had seen how happy Dean had been without all the stresses of the job? When he could finally just let everything go and be himself for once in his fucking life? There was no John Winchester looming over their heads. No hunts to tear Dean to pieces. No demons to taunt him and crush his self esteem into oblivion. Nothing burdened his brother’s shoulders. Why couldn’t he see that this was finally Sam’s turn to protect his brother?

Didn’t Dean realize that he could finally be happy? That he had the _right_ to be happy?

Sam thought back to the times where Dean protected him. There were so many moments in his life. Like the time he was seven years old and they’d just watched ‘The Thing’ on TV before going to bed and Sam had shot awake in the middle of the night, so sure he heard scratches under the lumpy motel bed that could only belong to a monster’s long, sharp claws. Dean turned the lamp on and looked at him with bleary eyes, slightly annoyed but puffing his chest out in a way only an older brother could when he wanted to protect his little brother from a fake monster. Or the time when he just turned nine and he freaked out because it was dark and there was another loud thunderstorm and their stupid dad who said he’d only be gone a couple days but he was already almost a week late and still hadn’t shown up and Sam had been extra clingy because he thought Dean would leave him too...but it turned out, all night long, Dean would just stroke his hair and say, “It’s okay, Sammy. I won’t let anything get you. Just go to sleep, you dork.” There were more times like that, hundreds, thousands, like when Dean beat the shit out of some kid who’d been picking on Sam at school. 

He remembered Dean grinning even as he sported a cut on his face, even when his arm was bruised and his knuckles were bloody and when John got a call from the principal he’d been livid and looked like he wanted nothing more than to kick the shit out of Dean for causing a scene. But Sam had never seen his brother’s eyes light up with such joy, his smile reaching his eyes as he ruffled Sam’s hair and said, “Don’t worry about a damn thing, kid. I’ll always have your back, Sammy. I love you.”

Dean loved Sam. He’d do anything for him. So why the fuck couldn’t he see that Sam felt the same way? That he’d do anything, _anything_ , for Dean? Why couldn’t he just let go and let Sam, for once in his miserable life, give a tiny grain of that happiness right back? 

He didn’t even realize he started crying, not until he blinked and he felt something in his eyes. Slowly, he reached up to touch his face. His fingers felt slick, wet. He blinked again and more tears trailed down. When the hell had he started to cry? He stared into his brother’s face, could see the conflict warring his eyes. “I just want us to be happy, Dean. And you make me happy and...I know I make you happy.” He could hear his voice, but it sounded far away, like he wasn’t actually saying anything, someone else was saying the words. “Why can’t you let yourself be happy, man? Why can’t you let us both be happy?”

For a moment, Dean just continued to stare at him and Sam was afraid his brother wouldn’t respond, but then his face morphed, twisted into something dark and ugly. He looked pissed off, like Sam said the wrong thing. He opened his mouth and Sam steeled himself mentally for whatever hurtful thing Dean was going to say in his anger. Before they both could do anything, however, the door to the room blasted open and Sam nearly flew back at the unexpected force.


End file.
